Darkness Possessed (Order of the Blade) Read online

  Eric was shocked at the sight of all of them exposing themselves to someone outside the team for the first time since he’d met them. He glanced at Jordyn, stunned by the response she was evoking in this stoic, hardened team of loners who had never acknowledged even the slightest bond between them.

  She looked around at them, her face softening in the flickering firelight as she took the time to really look at each man, honoring him with her attention. Eric watched each warrior sit taller, as if emboldened by her attention. Was it Jordyn herself affecting them like that, or the fact she was the sheva of a warrior they had all heard so many heralded stories about?

  Personally, with his limited knowledge of Calydon lore, Eric had never heard of her ex, which meant that his own fascination with her was entirely Jordyn herself…which stumped him. Women didn’t impress him. Women didn’t interest him. At least, not the way Jordyn did.

  “I think,” she said softly, as if she’d spent hours contemplating Ethan’s question about why Rohan was reacting to her, “that I am the first person he has met who isn’t afraid of him. I see him as a man, not as a warrior, and that’s different for him.” She looked at all of them. “I see all of you the same way.”

  As she said it, Eric realized that she was right. She didn’t look at Rohan like he was some god. She gave him attitude. She stood up to him. But at the same time, she was so compassionate about Rhiannon that her softness made him want to be a better man, for her. Soft and tough. A dynamite combination.

  She walked over to the fire and knelt next to the flames, finally stopping her restless pacing. “I was the soul mate of a warrior so powerful he could have destroyed the earth if he’d chosen, and yet, beneath that visage was simply a man. A man who loved me.” She held her palms out to the fire, as if absorbing the heat into her body. “After that, every Calydon I met was simply a man.” She smiled. “Most of them are complete jerks, I’ll be honest. Very few warriors have retained enough humanity to make them admirable, but even those…they are simply men.”

  Her words fell over the campfire, settling into the grooves of the silence, filling the gaps with something real. Something humane. Something laced with the faintest hint of irreverence surrounding the legend of their kind.

  “You’re right, you know,” Eric said, breaking the silence. “Most Calydons are shits.” He grinned as the other warriors glared at him. “But not these guys,” he added, after a deliberate pause. “These guys got it going on.” He meant it too. He’d never seen a crew so brave and willing to sacrifice for what was right. In the year he’d been with this team, four Calydons had already died fighting the monsters they hunted, and yet the remaining ones never faltered in their commitments. “You can trust them.”

  Jordyn smiled at him, her face softening. “You’re going to miss them, aren’t you?”

  He cleared his throat. “Shit, no. I got more important stuff to do than mourn for guy time.” He winked at her with just enough lustful deliberation to make heat rise to her cheeks. “You know. Got stuff to do.”

  “Shut up,” she said, but her voice was tinged with laughter.

  He grinned just as Ethan cleared his throat. Eric and Jordyn looked over at him. The warrior was hunched forward, his muscular arms braced on his thighs, his cloak shoved up around his hips to reveal well-worn jeans and heavy black boots. He stared into the fire, a dark look on his face that made him look more like a venomous raptor than the good guy Eric had just claimed he was. After a moment, Ethan looked up, his gaze going slowly and defiantly around the circle, daring anyone to interrupt what he had to say. “Gloria.”

  That was it? Gloria? What the hell did that mean?

  Chapter 15

  Eric glanced around the campfire, and saw that everyone was staring at Ethan with the identical stoic expressions, and he knew that not one of them had a clue what Ethan was talking about. “Who’s Gloria? An ancient battle or something?”

  “No.” Ethan met his gaze. “I had a pet rabbit once,” he said, daring anyone to defy him. “Her name was Gloria.”

  All the other warriors stared at him. Eric blinked. “What? Did you just say you had a pet rabbit named Gloria?” Surely he’d heard wrong, or that was some code phrase warning them that he was about to attack or something. Right?

  Ethan shrugged. “I’ve been running around for two hundred years chasing monsters.” His blue eyes flicked toward Jordyn. “I haven’t sat and talked to a woman since before then. I never sit. I don’t want to sit. But…” He ran his thumb absently over his brand, caressing the blade of the sword that had defined his life. “Jordyn reminds me of what life was like before this, so yeah, I admit it. I had a rabbit when I was a kid. She was white. She slept on my pillow, and she had the cutest damn fluffy tail you’ve ever seen.”

  “No shit?” Wolfe asked, his blue eyes looking even paler than usual as he stared at Ethan like he’d lost his mind.

  Ethan held out his arm. “I got a tattoo of her.” He pulled back his cloak to reveal a black drawing on his biceps. “I know it looks like a skull, ‘cause you know, I couldn’t have a bunny on my arm, but when I bend my arm like this, see? It’s Gloria.”

  “Damn.” Wolfe leaned over to inspect it. “I had no idea. You told me it was the skull of the first guy you killed.”

  Ethan pulled his sleeve down. “You guys tell anyone, and I’ll kill you.”

  “Word.” Wolfe hesitated, and then spoke up. “I actually like the smell of flowers,” he muttered. “It’s pretty cool.”

  Eric stared in shock. “Flowers? You said the roses remind you of the blood that spilled across your mother’s body when she was murdered by your dad. That’s why you always have that rose shoved into your back pocket when we go into battle. Because it provides motivation.”

  Wolfe shrugged. “Yeah, well, they do, but they still smell good, right? Hyacinths are my favorite. Damn, I like that shit.”

  Eric sat back, listening in shock as Maddox then spoke up, as if all the warriors were desperate to take advantage of this opportunity to simply be a regular guy, and not the lethal, ruthless warriors they had to be all the time. “I still remember my first kiss,” he said. “I was fourteen. She was the baker’s daughter. Almost got thrown into the bread oven by her dad when we got caught, but yeah, her lips are still the softest thing I’ve ever felt in my life.”

  Ethan nodded. “Women’s lips are like that. Soft as hell.”

  “No shit,” Wolfe said. “You know that moment when her lips first touch yours? It’s like the world stops, right? Nothing like it.”

  Jordyn grinned, raising her eyebrows to Eric. “What about you? What makes you human?”

  He narrowed his eyes. No chance was he going there. “I already told you. Not human.”

  She leaned forward, laughter dancing in her eyes. “Really? Then what is it about you that makes you more than a cold, ruthless killing machine? What would make a woman see you as a man and not as a monster?”

  He was aware that the other warriors had stopped talking, and were riveted by the exchange. Swearing under his breath, he leaned forward, meeting her challenge, until his mouth was almost touching hers. “You really want to know why a woman would fall into my arms and never want to leave them?”

  Her eyes widened, and she sucked in her breath ever so slightly. “Tell me.”

  He let his gaze fall to her mouth. “It’s because I’m naturally gorgeous, an incredible kisser, and I never, ever litter.”

  “Really?” She stared at him, then pulled back with a snort. “Well, that’s disappointing. When will guys realize that women want a guy for more than just good sex?”

  What? He’d thought that was pretty good. “You didn’t think the litter joke was funny?”

  “It was a joke?” She gave him a baleful look. “So you do litter? Is that what you’re saying? Because that’s not all that appealing. Let’s see, a guy who is so self-absorbed that he lists his hotness as one of his attributes, who makes fun of keeping the environment clean, an
d then declares to the world that he’s a great kisser, as if it’s his own opinion of his sexual prowess that makes him good. Wow. Be still my beating heart.”

  Eric stared blankly at her. “What? That’s not what I meant.”

  “It’s what you said.”

  “Well, shit, I didn’t say it like that.” He was vaguely aware of the other guys chuckling, and he felt heat prickle down his back. “I was just—”

  “Trying to flirt instead of answering the question? Don’t you know that women like men who can bare their souls?” She nodded at Ethan. “A pet bunny is completely endearing. Flowers are, well, just awesome. And remembering your first kiss? It’s every woman’s fantasy to have a guy that romantic.”

  The other guys grinned wider. Wolfe even leaned back on his elbows and stretched his legs out as if he’d just finished a brilliant lovemaking session and was basking in his accomplishments. Shit. Eric knew they were enjoying the payback for the insect attack. Swearing under his breath, he leaned forward and caught her arm. “Listen, Jordyn, I don’t play games. I already told you I don’t have fancy words. I’m not romantic. I don’t remember my first kiss. But I know that every time you speak, your voice rolls through me like a thundercloud promising rain after a decade of drought. That’s all I got, woman. That’s it. No bunnies, flowers, or memories. Just thunder.”

  With a growl of frustration, he released her, leapt to his feet, and strode across the clearing. In the entire year of traveling with the toughest warriors he’d ever met, not once had he felt out of control of the situation. And yet, one conversation with Jordyn had him twisted up and irritated. He didn’t like being off balance. Screw this whole thing. He was going to get answers about Tristan from her tonight, and then he was out of there. Let her track down Rhiannon herself. She had Rohan’s whole team wrapped up so tight they’d all follow her off a damn cliff if she asked them to. They were damn good at what they did, and she was in good hands with them.

  Yeah, decision made. He was going his own way in the morning. Tomorrow, he was going after Tristan.

  With the certainty of his decision pulsing through him, he folded his arms over his chest and turned toward the gathering at the campfire. To his surprise, Jordyn was staring at him, and the other warriors were no longer laughing. “What?” he snapped.

  “Ten.” Ethan said. “Great reversal. Nice work.”

  “Nine and a half,” Zane said, the row of black diamond studs glittering in the firelight along his earlobe.

  Wolfe held up five fingers. “He lost points for walking away. So, yeah, only five. You have to stand your ground after a great speech like that.”

  Eric glowered at them. “What are you talking about?”

  Maddox was rubbing his goatee. “Based on the look on Jordyn’s face, I give it a ten. Shock factor is always in the guy’s favor.”

  Even Axel, who had kept silent until now, had his pale face turned in Eric’s direction. “Seven,” he said, his voice raspy, as if he hadn’t used it in months, which Eric was pretty sure he hadn’t. He was even more silent than Rohan. “Thunder was sort of weak, but the pissed-off attitude gave it good believability. Definite seven.”

  He had no clue what was going on. All he knew was that Jordyn was still watching him, and there was something in her gaze that made heat rush straight to his cock. He scowled, really not happy that his body was trying to get jacked up right now. “What the fuck are you guys talking about?”

  “They’re rating it as a pick up line, I think.” Jordyn said. “I think you impressed them.”

  “It wasn’t a pick up line,” he snapped. “I was just pissed.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “That’s why it worked so well.”

  “That’s why it worked…” His words trailed off when he finally realized that what was shining in Jordyn’s eyes was a sultry, hooded heat, and she was directing it right at him. He met her gaze, realizing exactly how dangerous she was to him. She was more than a distraction. She was already almost a compulsion, a need so intense that it seemed to seize him by the gut and twist the air right out of him.

  He jammed his hands into his pockets and glared at her. “I just want to know about Tristan,” he snapped. “No more of this shit. I just have to find my brother.”

  She nodded. “I know. Me, too.”

  As the others started lowering their scores of his pickup line based on “too much ongoing attitude,” Eric’s world seemed to narrow until it was only Jordyn. She nodded once, and he knew they were on the same page. The momentary descent into flirtation had gotten too dangerous, and it was over. They had two missions: Rhiannon and Tristan. Nothing else mattered.

  Nodding with satisfaction, he walked back over to the fire and sat down beside her, taking his rightful place by her side. Yeah, maybe they weren’t going to start getting naked and nasty, but she was still his, for as long as it took to save his brother.

  She looked up at him, then held out her hand to him, palm up.

  He slapped his hand over hers and gripped tightly. Not holding hands. Not a handshake. A commitment to a common goal. Nothing else. “You sleep with me tonight,” he said, not meaning sex or intimacy. He meant it only one way: that they were in it together, and he wasn’t letting her out of his sight until everyone who mattered was safe.

  For one split second, she hesitated, and her gaze flashed to their entwined hands, then she nodded once. “We sleep together,” she agreed. She met his gaze. “Until Rhiannon,” she said.

  “Until Tristan,” he added.

  She bit her lip. “That could be a lot of nights.”

  “Yeah.”

  She met his gaze. “You can handle it?”

  “I can handle anything.” But even as he made the promise, he couldn’t quite make himself forget about those two brief kisses they’d shared, and how damn soft her lips had been. Shit. It was all Maddox’s fault for bringing up soft lips.

  He was going to have to kill him in the morning, he really was.

  ***

  Kiss her? Kiss her?

  Zach went utterly still, his entire body shaking with need at Rhiannon’s breathless request. He wasn’t a saint. He wasn’t even close. The need to possess her was so strong that his muscles were actually cramping from the effort of controlling himself.

  Still pinned beneath him, Rhiannon was staring up at him, her blue eyes dark with desire so raw that it seemed to thrust right into his gut. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. But he’d seen her terror. Hell, he was still carrying the marks from her attack when she’d thought he was going to hurt her.

  “Zach?” Her hands slid from his shoulders to the back of his neck, her touch a tantalizing caress as she wove her fingers through his hair. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “I need you to kiss me.”

  He swore under his breath, knowing damn well that all she was asking for was a kiss. She wasn’t asking for him to rip her clothes off or to make love to her until neither of them could move. He knew that, but could he really kiss her and stop there? He could feel her breasts against his chest. Her legs were wrapped around his hips, pulling him against her. The heat from her body seemed to flood him, a pulsing, relentless need that pushed ruthlessly against his self-control.

  No. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t take that chance.

  But even as he had the thought and made the resolution not to kiss her, he looked down into the turbulent depths of her eyes and saw the desperation in them. He realized suddenly that the kiss wasn’t simply about the raw lust that had been stirred up between them. She needed him to kiss her, a need that burned from the very depths of all the pain and trauma she carried with her. She needed him to show her what a kiss was supposed to be like.

  Jesus. That was serious pressure. But what was he going to do? Abandon her, when all he wanted to do was sweep her into his arms and gift her with whatever kindness he had left, with whatever beauty hadn’t already been stripped from his soul?

  No. He knew he wasn’t going to say no. He was
going to kiss her, and prove to her that some men were worth trusting, and that he was one of those men.

  Gritting his teeth against the need to consume her, he slowly bent his head, forcing himself to move with agonizing precision, giving her time to stop him or pull back. But with each inch that he closed between them, her fingers dug more tightly into him and her legs clamped that much harder around his hips.

  She wanted him. There was no going back. At all.

  Desire flashed in her eyes as she suddenly comprehended that he was about to kiss her, then wariness, and then, before the turbulence of her emotions could stop him, he closed the distance between them and kissed her, delivering the most chaste kiss he could summon.

  Her lips were the softest things he’d ever felt in his life. They were like the spun silk, warm with life and passion. Lust exploded through him, a fire so hot it felt as if it were searing his veins as his blood raced through his body.

  Swearing under his breath, he started to break the kiss, knowing that he was in over his head, but before he could pull back, she wrapped her arms around his neck and trapped him. Then, she parted her lips beneath his and kissed him. Hard. Passionately. Intensely, but with the tentative skill of a woman who had no idea how the hell to kiss a man, who was simply following her instincts.

  And it worked.

  He cradled the back of her head in his palm, braced himself on his other forearm, and kissed her back. No longer chaste and protective, he kissed her with all the passion of a warrior who had gone too long without the oxygen needed to sustain him, only to find that the woman in his arms was that missing piece of his survival.

  The kiss went from tentative to inferno in a split second. Rhiannon seemed to explode with passion, and he was right there with her. Hot kisses. Flesh. More flesh. His hands were suddenly on her bare belly, her stomach muscles quivering under his touch. Her skin was so smooth, and it made him want more. No, he didn’t want more. He needed more. He needed more of her skin, more of her kisses, more of everything that she was. He slid his hands up her rib cage and rested his palms over her breasts. She arched beneath him, pressing her body against his as she continued to devour his kisses. This was no shrinking maiden he was kissing. She was a warrior woman who craved him as desperately as he burned for her. There were no apologies, no fragility, and no tentativeness. It was about strength between two equals fighting for that which would make them breathe once again.