Shades of Darkness (Redemption Series) (30 page)

“Well, we need to get an early start if we’re going to make it to Vegas by nightfall.” Cale answered casually as if he were planning a road trip with an old buddy. “Of course, you and the female can always stay here. Like I said before, she isn’t the female we want. If I’d known who Mitch’s little girly-friend was, I never would have let him bring her. I have no quarrel with you, Balen, and I intend no ill will on Ashley. This is just business, that’s all.”

  “Just like you intended no ill will when you assaulted her?” Balen growled, his eyes flashing amethyst.

“All right, I admit it, that one was my bad. But I did it for a good reason,” he supplied in his own defense. “You think I have nothing better to do than go around assaulting women? Honestly, I think you’re missing the bigger picture here.”

“And what bigger picture is that exactly? Enlighten me, oh wise one. Is it in your ‘bigger picture’ to die?—because that’s exactly what I see happening.”

 Cale shook off the chill that ran down his back. “I died a long time ago, Balen. There’s nothing more you can take from me that hasn’t already been stolen.”

That comment must have caught Balen off-guard because, for a brief moment, Cale thought he might have seen pity in the angel’s eyes. “Whose fault is that?” Balen snapped harshly. “You had the same choice as the rest of us. You’re the one that chose to walk away!”

“I chose what I believed!” Cale barked defensively.

“You chose a lie!” he growled with equal venom. “And I’m sick of watching these mortals pay the price for your mistakes!”

 “It is what it is,” Cale replied flippantly with the wave of his hand.

“What it
is
will be the end of you.”

Cale wasn’t sure which he detested more, Balen’s anger or his pity.

“Why don’t you just end this, Cale? Olivia’s death won’t stop the judgment that’s coming for you. You’re fighting a losing battle and you know it.”

“I know nothing of the sort!”

“Then you’re too full of your own stupid pride to admit it,” Balen snapped, standing up from his chair so fast, the momentum sent the flimsy plastic toppling back to knock against the glass window of Ashley’s room. He faced off with Cale, glaring down at him, and growled, “I cut you some slack yesterday, because we used to be friends. I’ll not extend that courtesy to you again.”

Balen looked over Cale’s shoulder, and by the look of pure hatred shining in his amethyst glare, he knew Rhen must be approaching. “You’re lucky I’m bound by an eternal law that prevents me from manipulating Mitch’s free will, or else you’d be dead.”

Balen spoke with such venom and authority, God himself might as well have reached down and slapped him across the face. As Rhen met Balen’s malevolent glare, a slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “I think perhaps Ashley may be worth dying for, then. She looks absolutely delicious. Tell me, Balen, does she taste as wonderful as she smells? I’m sure you’d know.”

Now, what in the hell was that? What happened to not pissing the warrior off?

A low growl emitted from Balen’s chest as he leapt for Rhen. He moved so fast, the dumb bastard didn’t have a chance to cross over before Balen’s fist connected with his mouth. Rhen flew back and landed on the hood of a parked car. The metal frame caved beneath the impact, leaving an indention on the hood and an alarm blaring its assault.

Ashley and Mitch’s doors swung open at the same time. Each stood in their doorway, staring in shock as a stunned Rhen slowly climbed off the hood of the car. Fixing on Ashley’s startled gaze, he reached up and wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. His dark eyes never left hers as his tongue slowly snaked out to skate across the cut on his bottom lip.

“Tell me, how does
that
taste?” Balen growled, stepping toward Ashley to usher her back inside. “As foul as it smells?”

 “Smooth,” Cale snapped, scowling at Rhen. “Do you really think goading him was the smartest option here? Why in the hell would you do that?”

He dabbed at his lip again and shrugged. “Mitch needed a little convincing he was safer with us than a loose cannon like Balen. I sure as hell hope it worked, because that bastard has a nasty right hook,” he grumbled. Rhen looked over at Mitch and called, “You about ready to go?”

Mitch hesitated a moment and then nodded. “Yeah, just give me a minute.”

Less than five minutes later, Mitch was walking out with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Just as he tossed the bag into the back seat, Ashley’s door flew open and she came running out. “What are you doing, Mitch?”

“Bloody hell…” Cale grumbled under his breath.

Mitch turned to Ashley and took a few steps from the car, guiding her over to the Mustang so they could speak in private. It didn’t matter. Cale could hear them just as well over there.

“Mitch, what are you doing?” she asked. “Why are you getting into their car?”

“Look, Ashley, I think I’m gonna take it from here on my own. I appreciate your concern and all, you really are a great friend, but I’m not into playin’ third wheel to you and Balen.”

“What? Mitch, what are you talking about? There is no Balen and me. He’s my guardian, that’s it—”

“Keep telling yourself that, Ash. I see the way he looks at you, the way he watches you. You know, I asked him if he was in love with you last night.”

She tensed, and Cale could hear the slightest catch of her breath. “What did he tell you?”

“Essentially, to fuck off, but he didn’t deny it. Let’s just say, we won’t be exchanging Christmas cards this year.”

“You don’t have to like him, Mitch. You just have to let him keep you alive.”

“Something tells me that’s not one of his priorities, Ash.”

“It is. He’s just still…a bit angry about what happened between us the other night.”

What happened the other night?
Cale wondered, shooting a questioning glance over at Rhen, who shrugged as if to say “How the hell would I know?”

“Listen, Mitch, we’re in this together. You have me, and I’m not gonna bail. Even if you refuse to ride with me, and I seriously hope you reconsider, I’m following you, whether you want me to or not.”

When Mitch sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair, Cale knew they’d lost him. “Dammit!” he growled under his breath. “We were so close.”

***

It would be nearly a century before Haden walked back down the Dark Court’s long hall again. During that time, he’d done little more than exist, moving from place to place with no real purpose beyond plotting his revenge. Time was drawing near when he would go back home—back to Hell—and rip Gahn’s heart out just as he had done to him. Unfortunately, today wasn’t going to be that day, but soon…

The brisk clip of his footsteps resonated down the hall as he placed one determined foot in front of the other. Haden stopped before the double doors and lifted his hand to push them open, but paused when he realized his echoing footsteps hadn’t stopped. Glancing behind him, he looked to see who else was approaching. He strained to see as the flames of sporadic torches wobbled, dimming the dungeon-like hall, proof the disturbance in the air had not been imagined.  Still, the sound persisted…growing louder.

“Señor?” a voice echoed, soft and hesitant.

Haden tensed, wondering what a young woman would be doing in the bowels of Hell.

The rapping continued, faster and more determined. “Señor?”

He strained his eyes, trying to see the female running toward him, his senses lighting up at the fear in her voice. Obviously, the woman knew not who she ran toward, otherwise, she would have most certainly fled the other direction.

“Housekeeping,
Señor.”

Haden opened his eyes to the distinct
click
of a metal lock. It took a moment for his mind to clear as his dream-world caught up with reality. The hinges squeaked as the door slowly cracked open. Impulsively, Haden shifted dimensions, blocking the woman’s awareness of his presence.

She took a tentative step inside, and he recognized the whore as the one who had been with him his first night here. Peeking around the door to make sure he was gone, the female visibly relaxed when she found the room empty. Not an ego-boosting response, to be sure. He didn’t blame the female for her reluctance to get near him again. He supposed nearly being strangled to death was bound to make a girl leery.

He watched her a few minutes as she began cleaning his room. She moved about emptying trash and vacuuming the floor. Occasionally, he’d catch a glimpse of her bruised neck, and a twinge of remorse needled his chest, making it uncomfortable to draw a full breath. Haden reached up to rub the ache away and a sharp pain pierced his palm. Glancing down at his hand, it surprised him to see the heart-shaped burn in the center of his palm still hadn’t healed. He cocked his jaw left, then right—no pain. As he did a quick injuries check, he discovered everything else had healed just fine, so why hadn’t the burn? If possible, the damn thing looked worse than yesterday.

The roar of the vacuum grew closer, and every once in a while his bed would bounce when she banged into the frame. Had he not felt guilty about almost killing her, he would have traced back over and told her to get the hell out and leave him in peace. But the new discovery of his weeping wound rattled him just enough to leave her be. Who knew how long it would take for Rhen and Cale to get here. He probably should have asked where they were when he was informing the dynamic duo that their fearless leader was dead.

Bang…Bang…
  The bed bounced again.
Aw hell…
He needed to get out of here before he snapped and did something to the female he’d really regret. Since Rhen and Cale were en route, he might as well cool his heels. After last night’s little mission gone asunder, he wouldn’t be making another play for the female alone. Rhen and Cale would make excellent bait, and the way he saw it, they were his last shot at Olivia. If this got fucked up, there wouldn’t be another—they’d most likely be dead, and then all these years of planning would have been for nothing.

An hour later, Haden found himself, still in transcended form, sitting on a park bench overlooking a small pond filled with ducks swimming along serenely. Their little ducklings trailed behind in perfect formation, echoes of children’s laughter filling the air as they played on a jungle gym at the opposite end of the park.

It surprised him to find himself, here of all places. This wasn’t exactly his sort of hangout. But something drew him—subconsciously, his senses pulled him here. At first, he thought just to torture him. Listening to the airy, youthful laughter, he couldn’t help but wonder what his child’s joyous giggle would have sounded like.

His chest ached with a renewed sense of loss and he immediately smothered it with thoughts of hatred and revenge. It was the staple that kept him going all these years and the driving force that would give him the tenacity to see this through to the end. Then and only then,  after he’d stripped Gahn’s miserable life from him, could he return to his Anya and spill his life’s blood upon her grave as a final sacrifice to atone for failing her and their son.

But none of that would be possible—not without the stone. The stone… Haden uncurled his fingers to study his festering palm. Immanuel’s Stone was his ticket for delivering justice and the sweet mercy of his own death.

A squeal of laughter broke the air around him, this time much closer than before. Something red caught the corner of his eye as it bounced twice and rolled toward him. The ball came to rest against the side of his booted heel. Haden reached down and picked up the round rubber object. Examining it closely, another stab of pain shot right through his heart.

A little girl of no more than four years came bounding up to him. Her pale blonde curls bounced upon her shoulders, looking almost translucent in the sunlight. She wore a white sundress with prints of red ladybugs spattered over it. Her black patent-leather sandals exposed her tiny feet, toenails painted red to match her dress.

When she walked up to him and stopped less than two feet away, he then realized why he’d been drawn here. His instincts had sought her out. Even when he wasn’t conscious of it, he was hunting. Haden eyed the small girl, idly wondering if the Dark Court was yet aware another one existed—probably not, they’d been too focused on Olivia.

So trusting, so innocent…
he thought, watching in amazement as the girl stared up at him with radiant blue eyes that held no fear.

“Hi,” the little girl said.

He couldn’t help but return her smile.

She cocked her head a little to the left and studied him a moment before saying, “My name’s Emma. What’s yours?”

“Hi, Emma. My name is Haden.”

“That’s my ball,” she said, pointing at the red ball held in his hands.

“So it is. Would you like it back?” he asked, holding it out to her.

“Yes, please.”

When she stepped forward to take the ball, the little girl tripped and stumbled forward. Haden caught her right before she would have smacked her porcelain face on the bench. The moment he touched her, the child’s smile fell. The beautiful light that had been in her eyes dimmed as terror washed over her—and that was when he realized he’d touched her in his transcended form.

Shit…
Her little body stiffened as she scrambled to get her footing, tensed to run. The moment her fear filled the air, a bright light flashed behind her and the little girl’s guardian stood towering over her.

“Release the child.”

That’s what he was trying to do, but the little waif was as unsteady as a foal. With her feet now beneath her, he let go of the child and handed her the ball. Eyeing him warily, she reached out and snatched it from his hand before turning to look up at her guardian.

“Come on, Theo,” she said, tugging on his sleeve. “I wanna play catch.”

“I’ll be there in a minute, Emma,” her guardian replied lovingly, his amethyst glare softening as he watched the little girl turn and run back to her friends.