Darkness Seduced (Primal Heat Trilogy #2) (Order of the Blade) Page 11
In Gideon’s expression was a coldness that made Lily shiver. He was showing her that lack of emotion he’d culled so expertly to be able to do his job. But she also saw heat. She saw pain. She saw the man she’d never really seen, even after all those years of research. A man she wanted to cradle in her arms and comfort, even as the blood of her own grandmother dripped from his hands. “Damn you,” she whispered.
He raised his brows. “Now what?”
“You’d kill me, if you needed to.”
He said nothing.
“I know that. I know what you are. I’ve lived through the destruction that you’ve left behind…” She closed her eyes. “And yet, I still…”
“You still what?” His voice was softer now, curling through her.
She pulled out of grasp and walked across the clearing, out of his reach. “I can’t get involved with you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Too late, Lily. You’re not only involved with me, you’re involved with the Order.”
Her belly tightened. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? There’s no way I can get involved with you or the Order. No way. I have issues with you, the Order, and Calydons in general. Big issues beyond even my grandmother and my brother—” Her heritage, her background…it made her so vulnerable to Calydons.
Especially to one as powerful as Gideon. Her magic was linked to Calydons. She was a source of energy destined to be linked to the powerful warriors. An expendable fuel that had always been lethally harvested by Calydons for two thousand years–
Sudden realization flooded her with terror. If she wasn’t his sheva, then there was only one other explanation for her intense response to him: her magic had selected him for her. He was the one her Satinka magic had been searching for: the Calydon meant to be her mate, the only one who could truly mesh with her power and use it for all it was.
Lily went cold, ice cold at the thought. When she was seventeen, six Calydons had nearly killed her when they’d raped her for her magic because they’d been driven insane by her gift. What would it be like with Gideon, the male that her magic wanted? Lily’s wrists began to burn from the damage of chains long gone, scars in her soul as much as in her skin. Her breath caught in her chest, and suddenly she was back there, in that god-forsaken dump, tied down, at the mercy of those six Calydon for three days—
“Lily?” Gideon turned sharply toward her, his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
She stared at him, at his massive shoulders, at the sheer, untamed power emanating from him. She’d had no defenses against her attackers ten years ago, and they had been young men with a fraction of the power and strength that Gideon had. What would Gideon do to her if he got caught up in the thrall of her Satinka magic? With his strength, and the way she craved him so badly?
Dear God, if Gideon knew what she was, if he learned that her magic had chosen him, he would kill her for it.
Not on purpose. She knew that about him now. But he would kill her, because he wouldn’t be able to stop himself, and she wouldn’t be able to resist him. No warrior could resist that kind of call. No wonder she’d been so drawn to him. It hadn’t been because of the sheva curse. It was because her magic had selected him as the warrior it wanted, the male it would feed with power until Lily was dead.
“Lily?” Gideon walked toward her, his strides long and powerful across the sand. “Talk to me. I can feel your fear. What is it?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I—”
He caught her shoulders, his grip solid, secure, and unbelievably tempting. “Listen to me. I know Nate betrayed you. I get that. I understand your fear. I feel it in every cell of my body. But you need to understand that I’ve given you my protection, and that’s unshakeable. I swear on my Order oath that you’re safe with me. Do you understand? You’re working for the Order now, and that means you have our protection. Not just the Order. Mine. I will protect you.”
“I’m not working for the Order!” Dear God, she could never walk into that room and put herself at the mercy of the warriors meant to destroy her. Yes, Lily felt Gideon’s fierce determination pulsing at her, his commitment in every word he spoke. She wanted to believe it, she wanted to just crawl into his circle of safety and trust him. But she wasn’t a fool, and there was no way he could keep that promise, not if he was the one her magic had chosen. “I just want to go home—”
Gideon didn’t back down. “Do you remember the eyes of the Calydon who would have raped you at Nate’s? Deep pits of evil?”
She shuddered at the unwelcome memory. “Yes.”
“There’s a Calydon far more evil than that who has been in a metaphysical prison for two thousand years. The magic that sealed his walls is fading, and he’s about to get out. As the Order, our mission is to stop him at all costs, but we don’t know why his walls are weakening and we don’t know how to stop it.” Gideon’s grip tightened so much it hurt, but it wasn’t aggression. It was his unshakeable instincts to do his job, the same drive that had enabled him to kill innocents for five hundred years. “This Calydon, named Ezekiel, nearly destroyed the world once. If he gets out, he’ll do it for real this time, because there’s no one alive who can stop him once he’s free.”
Oh…she knew exactly how deadly Ezekiel had been two thousand years ago. And he was getting free? Lily couldn’t help the chill that ran through her at his words and at the starkness of the emotions he was sending into her. “What does that have to do with me?”
“Nate was orchestrating it, the stone is involved, and it sounds like Frank is taking over now that Nate’s dead.” Gideon’s eyes glittered. “You’re our only link to all three, and with your knowledge of our history, you might have the answers we need.”
Her stomach churned and she shuddered. “Frank? I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. And you will.” He drew her up against him until their bodies were touching from chest to thigh, until he was all over her personal space. “I’m incapable of letting Ezekiel destroy countless innocents, and as long as you might be able to help, I’m not letting you go.”
“So, I’m a prisoner again?”
Regret flickered in his eyes. “Only if you refuse to help. It’s your choice.”
“Oh, come on, Gideon. Don’t insult me like that. There’s no choice here!”
He gritted his teeth. “There’s always a choice, Lily, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”
She shoved his arm off her. “Damn you, Gideon. That’s a lie, and you know it.”
Sometimes, there were no choices.
Sometimes, there was only hell.
CHAPTER NINE
Gideon felt like hell when Lily ripped herself out of his grasp and stalked away from him, her shoulders hunched and her eyes haunted. All because she’d become a prisoner again. His prisoner, this time.
He had no right to take her, but he knew he would do it anyway. He had to do what was right. Personal freedom meant nothing if Ezekiel got out. They would all die if he did, and the greater good took priority.
It had to. That was his oath.
But shit, it was a hell of a lot more difficult to do when his actions were mired down with the burden of emotions. Where was his control? Gone since he’d met Lily. She’d stripped away his defenses, and he couldn’t get them back.
Gideon knew why he couldn’t pull his shit together and shut down his emotions. As inconvenient and distracting as it was to be wading through all this emotional shit, it felt incredible to feel his heart beat again. It was as if he’d broken out of some dark cavern into the sunshine, and damned if he didn’t want to stay outside.
But he couldn’t afford to. He had to get himself back where he needed to be. But as he felt the waves of tension emanating from Lily, he couldn’t shut her out. He wouldn’t. He liked feeling her. He damn well got off on knowing she was pulsing beneath his skin.
“Hell.” He ran his hand through his hair, forcing himself not to close the distance between them, to drop to his knees and offer her whatever she
damn well wanted. “Lily. I’m sorry. If there were any other way, I’d do it. But we need you.” The apology felt foreign on his tongue, words he never spoke, because he could not afford to question what he did to fulfill the promise he’d made so many centuries ago.
Lily turned her back on him, walked up to a fir tree and wrapped her arms around it. She pressed her cheek to the rough bark and closed her eyes, as if she were gaining solace and strength from nature itself. “I can’t be a prisoner again,” she whispered, so quietly he wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his enhanced hearing. “I can’t do this.” Tears squeezed out of her eyes, and he felt like she’d torn his gut right out of his body.
“You can do it. You’re not a prisoner, not like before. I swear I’ll—” He started to walk toward her when he felt the mental presence of Quinn, his blood brother of five hundred years and a fellow Order member.
Quinn was the one remaining Order member with whom Gideon had performed a blood bond, which enabled them to communicate telepathically over any distance. Elijah had been the third part of their trio, but Elijah was dead. He’d been slaughtered by the bastard who had held Lily hostage for two years.
Gideon flexed his jaw against the pain that wanted to spring up at the thought of Elijah. His death was so recent that the pain was still raw, culling grief so powerful that it was resistant to Gideon’s iron-willed attempts to bury it.
You up yet? Quinn asked.
Yeah, we’re fine. Could use a ride. Is Kane available to teleport us back there? Gideon walked over to Lily, unwilling to leave her isolated. Her head was bent, accentuating the bones in her too-thin shoulders. She’d suffered so much already, and he was going to bring more down on her.
He really was the bastard she’d accused him of being, wasn’t he?
You want to bring Lily here? Quinn hesitated. You want to risk exposing her to Kane? I thought we weren’t bringing her in.
Every female was a risk for an un-bonded Order member, and if she were Kane’s mate, the connection would flare up the minute they connected. Something dark and dangerous spilled through Gideon at the idea that Lily might be Kane’s sheva.
Lily turned sharply toward him, as if she could feel his response. She raised her eyebrows at him, showing no fear.
Gideon ground his jaw and touched the ends of Lily’s hair, needing that contact between them. He knew he had no choice about whether to bring Lily in. His oath required he take advantage of all resources, and that included Dr. Davenport. But it wasn’t simply his oath. It was the promise he’d made five hundred years ago, a promise drawn in blood and innocence. Kane’s the only one who can teleport, and I need to show her the stone. She might be able to decipher the writing on it. She’s Dr. Davenport.
He felt Quinn’s surprise at Lily’s identity. Damn. You’re right. She could be the expert we need. I want the stone protected here, so I’ll send Kane as soon as I can. He’s out right now checking on a couple things, but he’ll be back shortly. You safe there?
Keeping one hand on Lily, Gideon tuned his senses to the forest around them, searching for any sounds or scents that were off. He caught nothing out of the ordinary. A cluster of ferns was brown and dying, a grim reminder of how Ezekiel had decimated even nature when he’d been free two thousand years ago. We’re fine. Keep the others away until I get her sequestered. He sent Quinn a mental image of their location, then cut off communication.
He turned his attention to Lily. “I have someone coming to pick us up and take us to our temporary headquarters.”
She lifted her head from the tree to look at him. “An Order member?”
“Yeah.”
Her hair was dry and clean now, flowing over her shoulders in rich blond waves that caught the morning sunlight. Even wearing the baggy sweats, even with the tense set to her body, she was beautiful. He knew how soft her hair was, how silky her skin was, and it was taking all his self-control not to haul her against him and bury himself in those decadently soft tresses.
In her very essence.
He met her gaze and for a moment, desire flared in her eyes. It was quickly chased away by a cold wariness. “I can’t go.” She turned to face him, leaning her back against the tree. “I’ll make a deal with you, Gideon. I’ll help the Order research the stone, and I’ll try to translate the writing on it. But you have to let me keep my space.”
His eyebrows shot up at the undercurrent of tension in her voice. There was more to her request than she was admitting. He could feel the cool drift of her evasiveness. “Why?”
She met his gaze. “In my research about Calydons, I discovered that certain families are more likely to be mates for Calydons. My grandma was an Order sheva, which means there’s a good chance I’ll be one too.” Caution flickered in her eyes. “Since I’m not yours, I could be someone else’s. I refuse to put my life at risk like that.” She lifted her chin, new strength surging into her stance. For the first time since he’d retrieved her, he saw indicators that she was reclaiming her old self, the strong, intelligent woman who had traveled the world, undaunted by the enemies she stirred up. “I won’t give the Order a reason to kill me, and I refuse to get sucked into the sheva destiny.”
Gideon was in complete agreement with her about not getting her hooked up with any other Order members. Just the thought of her being with Kane… Yeah, no thanks on setting her up to bond with anyone else. “We’re stranded in the desert. You have any other suggestions, I’m all in.”
“I want to go home,” she said. “I just want to go home.”
He closed his eyes against the sudden crash of her loneliness in his gut, and his body ached for her. Her emotions tugged at him, ripped through his shields until he couldn’t think straight.
He opened his eyes and looked into her face, saw the desperation in her eyes, felt the years of despair welling inside her and knew exactly why he’d worked so hard to shut down his emotions. His mentor, Dante, had taught him to build walls to keep himself emotionally detached from the hell he inflicted on others.
But Gideon had no defense against the kind of pain she was feeling right now and sending into his core. He cursed, and ran his hands through his hair, trying desperately to figure out how to raise his shields against her.
But he couldn’t.
Lily turned away again, folding her arms over her chest, and he felt her fear. More than fear. Terror, ingrained over years and years. Of him. Of his kind. Of his mission. Of his team. He cursed, realizing why Dante had worked so hard on his training. It was absolutely fucking impossible to do his job when he could feel her emotions.
She turned to face him, her forehead furrowed. “Stop it.”
He frowned. “Stop what?”
“You’re making me feel bad for you.”
He blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“I can feel how upset you are.” She pressed a hand to her belly. “Right here.” Her gaze went to him, her eyes wary. “It makes me want to come over and hug you. To tell you it will be okay. To do whatever you want me to do, just to ease your torment.” She laughed softly. “Imagine me needing to comfort an Order member.”
He was so shocked by her statement that he didn’t know how to respond.
Her face became even more cautious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Are you an empath?” he finally asked.
“Me? No.”
“But you’re feeling my emotions? You’re internalizing them?”
She nodded. “You’ve been inundating me with them this whole time. You’re projecting them onto me—”
“No, I’m not. I don’t have that capacity. I only receive others.”
She stared at him, her eyes widening. “That’s impossible. I wouldn’t be able to feel your emotions, unless-”
“No. You aren’t my sheva. There’s no chance. We both know that.” He ran his hand through his hair anyway, unsettled. “You must be an empath.”
She shook her head. “I’m just…human.”
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He heard the hesitation, saw the question in her eyes and all his senses kicked into alert mode. “You’re more than human, aren’t you? What are you?”
She lifted her chin. “Just human.”
He cocked his head as things began to click into place. “That music was you, wasn’t it? In the river?”
Her eyes snapped to his. “What music?”
“Bells.”
She paled and sucked her breath. “Bells? You’re sure?”
“Dead sure.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Bells,” she whispered with a groan, muttering to herself as she turned away. “He heard bells. It had to be Gideon who heard my bells. I was hoping I was wrong.”
“What are you talking about?”
She said nothing as she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun. The sun glinted through her hair, making the strands come alive, as if they were glowing.
“Your bells?” He frowned as he thought about that, studying her as she pulled off her thick socks and buried her toes in the damp sand of the Oregon high desert. Bells. Why was that significant? Memories tugged at his mind, and he tried to recall what he knew. “How do you create the music of bells?”
“Don’t ask. Let it go.” She pressed her palms against the tree. Her body visibly relaxed as her feet sank into the earth, and he heard a distant, faint tinkling of bells again.
“Bells again,” he said, a thought beginning to tug at his memory. He’d heard about those bells before. But how?
“Damn it.” Her voice was throaty, almost musical. “I can’t stop them.”
“You can’t stop the bells?” The call of her glistening hair was too strong. He walked across the sandy ground until he could touch the silkiness, until he could thread his fingers among the strands. Longing heated her eyes, and she didn’t move away as he slid his arms around her waist and pressed his face to her hair.
He pressed his body against her backside and set his hands on her hips, nuzzling her neck as he started to sway back and forth. He breathed in her scent, this time recognizing it for what it was. The delicate scent of new earth, the freshness of spring, the emergence of the sun after a rainstorm.