Shades of Darkness (Redemption Series) (4 page)

As Liam walked out the front door, he was suddenly hit with a sense of evil foreboding. Every muscle in his body tensed as his warrior instincts snapped to attention. Rowen was close. He could sense the dark undercurrent in the air. Shit, they were already searching for her.

***

Olivia sat in the car, watching the front door of her apartment from the rearview mirror, waiting as the seconds ticked by for Liam to reappear. He burst out the door and descended the steps when suddenly his sure, determined stride faltered. Tensing, he stopped to crane his neck, looking behind him. After a brief moment, he swung back around. The glower on his handsome face darkened another degree, making him look downright lethal. His amethyst-colored eyes verily glowed with anger—not that she blamed him. It couldn’t be easy for him to see her wearing this wedding dress or hear her tell another man she loved him.

As he strode toward her, she was taken aback by the sheer size of him, the fluid grace of his well-defined, powerful body. After all these years, she’d never gotten used to his beauty, and didn’t think she ever would.

The rear door opened and her bags made an abrupt appearance in the back seat. Good thing she hadn’t packed anything breakable. Wordlessly, he hopped into the driver’s seat, slammed the door shut, and peeled out of the driveway. The sudden change in him set her nerves on edge. Combined with a healthy dose of guilt, she teetered on the edge of another breakdown.

When she’d woken up this morning and laid there staring at the ceiling, she’d prayed for closure to this painful chapter of her life. She was prepared to put the past, aka Liam, behind her and start over as Olivia Mathis. The last thing she’d expected was to have the angel show up mere minutes before she’d be saying “I do” and steal her away.

Honestly, she didn’t think she’d ever see Liam again. After three miserable years of hoping and waiting, begging and sobbing, she’d finally given up.
How long was I supposed to live my life mourning for you?
She wanted to scream, hating him for doing this to her, and hating herself for hurting him and for letting those old emotions come flooding back like it was yesterday.

Liam turned onto I-75 and headed north. He still hadn’t said a word to her—his posture tense as he frequently glanced into the rearview mirror.

“Where are we going?”

He looked at her a moment before answering. “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t thought things out that far. I didn’t exactly plan for this to happen.”

“Why now, Liam? It’s been three years and nothing. All of a sudden, why am I so important to them again?”

“You never stopped being important. Just because you think these last three years have been quiet doesn’t make it so. I’ve been busy, very busy…”

“Oh.” Olivia didn’t know what to say. She’d just assumed the Dark Court had left her alone. She’d been too caught up in her own grief to pay any mind, or even care about the otherworldly dynamics at play.

“I don’t want you to be afraid. I just want to keep you safe, like I promised I would, but I didn’t promise it would always be convenient for you. I am sorry about your wedding.”

“So am I...” she replied softly.

Liam didn’t respond, but then, there wasn’t anything he could say.

Chapter Three

“The warrior’s been here,” Haden announced as they stepped into the female’s apartment.

No shit. As if Rowen couldn’t figure that out for himself. The warrior’s presence permeated the small room, leaving behind a dominant spicy scent that even he couldn’t mistake.

Cale shifted restlessly near the doorway. The fallen angel’s “fight or flight” response clearly edged toward flight—pussy. He and Rhen hung back, neither of them looked too happy about being here. Perhaps the problem was Haden. That surly bastard seemed to bring out the worst in everyone.

“How long ago?” Rowen asked, walking farther into the living room. Who knows, maybe the tracker could be good for something, after all.
He knew Liam had been here, but his senses weren’t acute enough to timeline events.

Haden drew in a slow, deep breath and exhaled the air, his face crinkling in disgust. “Fifteen, twenty at the most.”

“Dammit!” Rowen growled. “He’s running with her!” He turned to leave, ready to rally his crew and haul ass, when he noticed Haden walking the other way. Where in the hell was he going? Following a few paces behind, he watched from the crack in the bedroom door as Haden stood at Olivia’s dresser, digging through her jewelry box, pulling open drawer after drawer.

What is that crazy bastard looking for?
Whatever it was, he didn’t find it, because a snarled curse tore from his lips as he slammed the last drawer shut. Spinning around, he marched over to the woman’s bed and picked up her nightgown draped across the mattress. Burying his face into the black silk, a low, throaty growl rumbled in Haden’s throat.

All right, enough of this shit. They didn’t have all day to stand around while Haden got up close and personal with the woman’s intimates. Creepy bastard… “You ‘bout done playing with the girl’s panties?” Rowen snapped, stepping into the room. “Her roommate could be back any minute, and believe me, you don’t want her guardian finding you here.”

Balen had earned a well-deserved reputation among the fallen society, and like Liam, was highly feared among the Dark Court. Rowen had learned from Max’s mistake of underestimating the Ronnin warriors, and he had no intention of repeating history here tonight.

“I fear no guardian,” Haden snapped defiantly, tossing the nightgown back on the bed as if it were yesterday’s trash.

Rowen scowled. It was this kind of cocky shit that was gonna get them killed. “Ashley’s ‘guardian’ isn’t a guardian, smart ass. He’s Ronnin, just like Liam.”

When Haden glanced at him, there was a wildness dancing in those pale green eyes that made Rowen a bit uneasy. This nut job was cracked—plain and simple.

“Warriors serving as guardians, huh? Interesting…”

“Yeah, it’s real tits. Why don’t you ask Cale how interesting he thinks it is?” Rowen growled, tipping his head toward the demon. “I’m sure he’d love to tell you how he got that scar on his face. And he’s lucky, too—almost got his damn head lopped off!”

Haden’s gaze sought out Cale, who was pacing the living room, obviously anxious to leave.

“Let’s go,” Rowen barked. “We’re stinking up the place!” Turning abruptly, he walked out of the bedroom and didn’t stop to wait for the others as he marched out the front door. If those fuck-ups didn’t have their asses in this car in the next thirty seconds, then sayonara, suckers. They’d already been here too long. If Ashley came home anytime soon, Balen would scent them for sure, and the last thing they needed was to kick the hornet’s nest this early in the game.

***

It was the middle of the night by the time Liam pulled into the parking lot of a hole-in-the-wall “No Tell Motel.” They’d traveled countless miles and were somewhere in Tennessee when he’d finally felt Olivia fall asleep. Her emotional grid was calm and her soft, rhythmic breathing confirmed her peaceful slumber. Pulling up to the office, he quietly exited the car, keeping a watchful eye on her through the lobby window.

Inside, the front desk was empty except for a bell sitting in the center of the counter. Liam tapped it and a loud
ding
filled the small office. He looked around for the clerk as the soft echo of a TV carried out from the back room. Sighing impatiently, he stood there waiting, while frequently glancing out at his car to check on Olivia.

After another minute of no response, he stepped around the corner of the desk and opened the back door. An old black and white, sporting a set of rabbit ears, cast reflections onto the craggy features of a man sleeping in a recliner. A rusty old TV tray sat beside the arm of his chair. In one hand was a burning cigarette, in the other a beer, and a remote control rested in his lap.

“Excuse me,” Liam said, irritation making his voice crisp.

The man startled awake. Arms flailing, he dropped the beer as he flew out of the chair, disoriented and cranky. “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!”

Liam scowled, instantly disliking the man who spoke so irreverently. “Had you heard your bell, I wouldn’t have frightened you,” Liam growled. “I need a room for the night.”

The man squinted at the clock hanging on the wall above the TV. His face wrinkled into a bigger scowl. “It’s late,” he said, stating the obvious.

“I know what time it is,” Liam snapped impatiently. “That’s why I need the room.”

The man brushed past Liam, and he followed the slug out to the front office. He was relieved to find Olivia still asleep, curled against the center console.

“That’ll be forty-nine dollars for the room,” the man said, pulling Liam’s attention back to him. “I just need your driver’s license and plate number.”

Liam had no intention of giving him either and leaving a paper trail for the legion to follow. That’s why he’d picked this shithole of a motel in the first place. He pulled a hundred dollar bill out of his pocket and put it on the counter. The man paused only a second before snatching the crisp bill off the counter and stuffing it in his pocket. He turned around and pulled a key off the hook. “Room seven, ground floor,” the man grumbled, handing Liam the key.

He curtly thanked the old man and turned abruptly, walking out of the office. Driving around the corner of the building, he parked in front of their room and carried Olivia’s bags inside. The motel room smelled of stale, musty air. Velvet textured paisley wallpaper, yellowed with age, hung curled and peeling from the corners of the walls. Liam crossed the worn avocado shag carpet and stepped into the bathroom, turning on the light. The ambient glow filled the main room.

He pulled back the covers on the bed before walking outside to the car and gently opening the passenger door. Olivia’s wedding dress came spilling out at him as he slid his hand behind her back and one under her legs, lifting her out of the car. She moaned softly and turned in his arms, wrapping her delicate arm around his neck.

Liam stiffened as a jolt of heat flooded his veins. The forbidden desire coiling in his gut was nothing short of pure torture. Forcing his body to move, he turned slowly, trying not to wake her, and purposefully placed one foot in front of the other, carrying her over the threshold of the skeezy motel room.

Pure and simple, it was nothing but sick irony that he’d be carrying Olivia, in a wedding dress no less, over any threshold. If he’d had his way, he’d be carrying her into a house, one of those beauties straight out of a
Thomas Kinkade
painting, as his wife, where they’d be starting a long and happy life together—not into some stank, low budget motel, with her wearing a wedding dress intended to be removed by another man. As his mind led him down the path he didn’t want to go, he thought perhaps right now, he could quite possibly be in Hell.

Liam gently laid Olivia on the bed, anxious to get his hands off her so he could clear his mind and regain some semblance of control again. She’d always been a heavy sleeper, so he wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t woken up with all the movement. Reaching down, he brushed a lock of hair out of her face, slowly letting the black silky strands slide through his fingers. So incredibly soft…just as he remembered it.

His body physically ached to be near her. The temptation to climb in beside her and take her into his arms nearly dropped him to his knees. It felt like forever since he’d held her. But she wasn’t his to touch. She belonged to another, and just the thought of it hit his veins with a possessive fury that scorched his soul. A snarled oath tore from his lips as he forced himself to turn and walk away.

His mood grew foul, hovering on the verge of downright nasty, as he sat in the chair across the room, warring with himself to do the right thing and stay the hell away from her. It was times like this when he wished he could sleep. Something…anything…to buy him a few moments reprieve from this gnawing desire. Yeah…not gonna happen. So there he sat, alone with his thoughts, until the early glimpse of dawn finally began to break over the horizon.

***

Mitch sat at his kitchen table with a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s. The tails of his crisp white shirt hung loosely around his waist, wrinkled and worn. His sleeves were shoved carelessly past his elbows, and the ends of his tie hung draped around his neck. The guy looked like shit.

Tom had called Ashley a few hours ago. His friends were staying with him in shifts, afraid to leave him alone in case he decided to do something stupid like get behind the wheel after consuming half a bottle of JD. Anyone who knew Mitch knew that was a pretty good possibility, so Ashley had offered to pull night duty. Why not? She wasn’t going to get any sleep, anyway. She was concerned for Mitch. He wasn’t handling this well at all.

Nate looked over at her, but he didn’t speak—he didn’t have to. They held an unspoken conversation that amounted to a lot of “Holy shit, I think Mitch is gonna crack.” They each knew what the other was thinking, sharing a bond that had developed over years of friendship going all the way back to kindergarten.

There had been a time in the recent past when they’d tried to make it more—hoped it could be more. But since Balen had stepped into Ashley’s life three years ago, no matter how hard she’d tried, there was always a part of her heart that just wouldn’t let him go. Nate hadn’t been content to stay in a relationship where he was second choice—not that she blamed him—but the heart wants what the heart wants, and unfortunately for her, it wanted her guardian angel.

So when Nate suggested, after six months of trying to gut out a relationship, that they made better friends than lovers, she gave no objection to letting him go. The separation hadn’t broken her heart, only confirming what she’d known deep down all along—she loved Nate, but she wasn’t in love with him. Thankfully, their friendship had been strong enough to withstand the awkward break-up phase.