Darkness Arisen Page 3

  Oh… This was good. Really good. Terrifying…but it was also delicious and incredible to be the recipient of a kiss so full of lust that it couldn’t be contained.

  Heat and desire burst through her, coiling through her body like a hot wind on a summer night. Desperate need raced along her spine, and her resistance to him crumpled under his onslaught. He growled and amped up the intensity of the kiss, his mouth demanding and hot, his tongue no longer a tease, but an aggressive, dominating force that thrust past her defenses, igniting a fire that seemed to burn through her skin. The kiss became about heat and desire and passion. And need. Dear God, she craved him so deeply she wanted to tear off her skin and plunge inside him until there was nothing separating them, until they were one.

  She wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck, pressing her body against his, meeting his kisses with a carnal desire of her own. Her tongue met his in a sinful dance of promise and temptation—

  Jesus, Alice. Ian broke the kiss suddenly, stripping her of the heat he’d been generating.

  She gasped in protest, barely remembering to close her mouth before the saltwater poured down her throat. She wanted to yank him down toward her and make him kiss her again and again. Down her neck, over her collarbone, and across the swell of her breasts. Then he would take her nipple in his mouth and—

  Don’t finish that thought, he interrupted, jerking her out of her fantasy, making her realize exactly how much she’d fallen under his spell with her erotic fantasies.

  Oh, God. He was so much more dangerous than she’d even realized.

  Ian was staring at her intently, his brown eyes stormy with dark clouds of desire, and her body throbbed in response. Ian growled, his jaw tight. We are so going to finish that when we get out of here.

  Out of here? she echoed blankly, trying to gather her thoughts when all she could think about was his mouth trailing over her skin, his hands moving lower and—

  Yes, here. He grinned, a cocky grin, as if she’d just dubbed him king of the world because his kiss had made her forget everything else. At the bottom of the ocean, dangling precariously over a chasm that’s haunted by demon spirits who are trying to claim your soul. That’s the here I’m talking about.

  Oh… His words wrenched her back to the present, to the fact they were hanging on the side of a cliff, protected from death only by his mace jammed into the rock. Oh, yeah, that here. Fear bubbled back up to the surface, and she glanced down. Only a few yards below them was the thick, shadowy mist from the demon world, waiting to take her soul. Ian was the only thing keeping her out of their reach.

  She quickly jerked her attention back to her savior, to the bulging muscles in his arm as he held them in place with his mace. He was clearly straining now, calling upon his reserves to resist the vacuum trying to suck her down. How long could he fight it off? And how long would the Mageaan allow her to live and evade their trap? If they realized she had survived the assassination, they would soon be back to finish what the ocean and the demons hadn’t been able to complete. Either way, she would die—

  No. Ian’s eyes flashed with outrage, as if he’d read her mind. Had he? Oh, man, that wouldn’t be good! Today is not your day to die, Alice. For once I’m going to get it right and save your cute little ass.

  She blinked, his reference to her rear end making her realize he’d been having a clear view of her “cute little ass” and all her other body parts from the first moment she’d encountered him, since she was stark naked. After a flash of embarrassment, she quickly decided that nakedness was not her biggest concern right now. Nothing like death, being hunted by demons, and being swept away by dangerous kisses to make a girl put nakedness further down on the “things to worry about” scale. Right now, it was about living.

  Hey. Ian interrupted her thoughts. Did you hear me? I’m not going to let you die this time. I’m stubborn like that, and I never allow a woman to die four times on my watch. Three, yeah, sure, no big deal, but never four.

  Well, I’m glad to know that four is your limit, you know, given the situation and all. But how could he promise that? She wanted to believe him. She wanted to have another chance to save Catherine and to live, but she wasn’t blind to their situation. He was using his mace as an anchor because he couldn’t fight the force of the pull by himself. The surface of the ocean was still so far away. And the truth was, she really wasn’t predisposed to defeat death these days. It was pretty damn determined. How? There’s no way to swim against this current.

  Have faith, sweetheart. I didn’t come alone. Then she felt him turn his focus outward as he reached out with his mind in a different direction. She felt the moment he connected with another male. This male’s energy was dark and turbulent, almost violent, with flashes of evil so intense that she recoiled.

  But Ian didn’t pull back. Ry. How about another ride? I got the girl.

  About damned time, Ry said. Is she okay?

  Ian looked at her and raised his brows, telling her to answer the stranger. What was going on? She wasn’t telepathic. How was she connecting with both of them? Suspicion rolled through her, a grim realization that she knew very little about Ian, other than the fact that he’d been present all three times she’d died, and that he evoked emotions and desires in her that she wasn’t allowed to have, emotions that she’d felt only once before. That other time, the payment had been brutal, too brutal, and too horrific to endure again. And now Ian was dragging her right back to that place.

  Ian. Ry’s voice grew darker, almost angry, churning with emotions so intense she knew instantly that this man Ry was close to the edge of demon, creatures she was all too familiar with.

  Tell me the angel is okay, he commanded. Now.

  Alice went cold. They knew she was an angel? That was impossible.And so very dangerous. Frantically, she shook her head. I’m not an angel.

  Ry’s relief flooded her once she spoke, as if all he’d focused on was the fact she’d spoken, not her words. She felt him touch her mind, as if searching for reassurance that she was truly all right.

  Unease rippled through her at his contact, and she pulled back from his mind as he spoke to Ian. Way to go, Fitz. I’ll let you live today. Then a flash of black light flooded the water, and a loud crack echoed violently through the depths.

  The effects of Ian’s life-infusing kiss fading, Alice’s lungs began to burn again as a machete streaked through the water directly toward them. She instinctively tried to duck out of the way, but Ian held her tight. The machete sailed past them down into the chasm, then suddenly screeched to a stop. It reversed direction and started to speed back up to the surface, as if Ry had thrown it and called it back to him, just as she’d seen Ian do with his maces.

  That’s our taxi, sweetheart. Ian adjusted his grip to anchor her more securely against him, and then as the machete raced by, he released his grip on his own weapon and reached his free hand toward the handle of the machete. For a moment, they were suspended in the water, and she felt the force of the current as it tugged them down.

  Then Ian grabbed the steel weapon. Their descent stopped with a violent jerk, and then the machete began to tow them effortlessly through the water as it tore back toward the surface.

  Relief flashed through her as they sped to the top, but almost immediately, her body began to hurt, she became dizzy, and black spots began to dance across her vision. Ian! Something’s wrong.

  His mind brushed hers briefly as if to scan her body, then Ian’s voice shouted in her mind. Too fast, Ry! She can’t ascend that quickly! Stop it!

  You know the damn thing doesn’t have speeds, Ry said. Protect her yourself!

  Ian didn’t hesitate. He yanked her tighter against him and slammed his mouth down over hers. This time, the kiss wasn’t a breath of fresh air or careful desire. It was raw, sheer passion, an invasion into her soul that shredded her defenses and thrust her under his spell.

  Stop! Frantically, she shoved against him, terrified of how he was attempting to posse
ss her. Don’t—

  But then he deepened the kiss, and he thrust the fierceness of his lust right into her body. It ripped a gasp from her, and fire seemed to explode through her veins, tearing her from her own mind and yanking her into a raging cauldron of want and desire. There was no chance to resist, no hope of escaping, no possibility of stopping him.

  He simply consumed her.

  *

  Ian didn’t care what Alice wanted.

  He didn’t give a shit if she wanted to distance herself from him. It didn’t matter if she wanted to block him and keep him out of her mind. Not if it meant letting her die, which is what was going to happen if he didn’t protect her from their rapid ascent to the surface.

  The only way to do that was to give her access to his immortality, to his legendary strength as a Calydon. It was pretty damned clear that she would not survive the fast pressure changes if she weren’t shielded by his power. That kind of sharing was impossible except between Calydons, or between a male and his sheva, his soul mate. Since he was still certain that Alice was his soul mate, wrapping her up in his metaphysical protection should be easy.

  But nothing about their connection was how it should have been. His brand hadn’t begun to form on her arm after they’d made love, which was one of the five bonding stages. She shouldn’t have been able to block him from connecting telepathically, especially not when they were so close to each other physically. Yet, it had happened. Somehow, she was resistant to their bond, and it worried the hell out of him.

  Not that he was going to let that stop him from saving her life. He knew the curse would flare up if he tried to connect with her, only to have her reject him, so he mentally prepared himself for a whopping failure as he used the intensity of their kisses to try to breach the walls between their beings. He reached for her, he opened his mind to her, he fought to connect with her, but sure enough, as he tried to merge, he ran into the same walls he’d encountered before when they’d made love and he’d tried to draw her to him.

  He could feel some of her emotions, her desire, her fear, but there was a part of her, a deep part of her, that he simply couldn’t access. There was no way there should be that kind of block between the two of them. Fuck! He fought harder, racing against time as her body bowed in agony. With the ocean trying to kill her, he couldn’t afford to let go of Ryland’s machete and stop their ascent. They had to get out, which meant that he needed to help her survive.

  Let me in, Alice. I can save you. He hauled her tighter against him and kissed her even more fiercely, opening himself fully to the desire and passion that had been building inside him since the last time they’d met. He unleashed his need into her, filling her with the intensity of his emotions. With grim determination and full realization of the risk he was taking, he dropped every last shred of the emotional shields he’d erected within himself to defend against the curse. He exposed himself to her completely, allowing her into the very depths of his soul.

  Emotions crushed him, spewing through him with violent intensity. They screamed through his mind, like black wraiths streaking through him. The agony of desperate need. The crushing force of the ultimate despair of being unable to connect with her or save her. The stench of torment and failure. The blood-red streaks of the terror of losing her. He swore, fighting to hold onto sanity as the emotions flooded him, as the curse screamed its laughter at how defenseless he had just made himself. The despair thickened, tearing apart his sanity, sucking him into the miasma of doom—

  Fuck that. He wasn’t going down like that. Not now. Not when Alice was counting on him.

  Ian focused on the feel of her body against his. On the shivering of her flesh. On the deadly tautness of her muscles. On the waves of pain cascading off her. On the feel of her mouth beneath his. The taste of her lips. The softness of her skin beneath his hands. His need for her. His desire. The raw and burning thirst to consume her on every level of her being. He opened himself to every emotion threatening to overtake him, using the kiss as a conduit to infuse her with his spirit, using the bare and ragged depths of his soul to hammer away at the walls wrapped around her soul that kept her from him. I burn for you, Alice, he whispered. Can you feel that?

  Yes. Her voice whispered through his mind, and he felt her barriers tremble. He kissed her mercilessly, demanding her response, allowing her no respite from the sensual assault, from the intensity of all that he was.

  And then she was kissing him back, a kiss so fierce that it skyrocketed the passion between them. Barriers fell, and an inferno ignited. He injected his energy into that fissure, imbuing her with the legendary healing capacity of a Calydon. It flooded her, wiping out the damaging effects of the rapid ascent, empowering her to withstand it. He felt her jerk in response, and then her pain vanished. She relaxed in his arms, her body no longer fighting the poison that had built up in her system as she allowed him to heal her.

  Victory exploded through him. He’d saved her in a way that could work only between a Calydon and his soul mate. Maybe she didn’t carry his brand, but he’d just claimed her. You’re mine, Alice. Forever.

  She broke the kiss and stared at him as the water rushed past. No, Ian. You’re wrong. I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours.

  The conviction in her eyes was like a knife jabbing through him. His sheva should never be able to deny their connection like that. It was impossible. A violation of what defined him as a Calydon male and Alice as his soul mate. But he saw it in her eyes, her conviction, her certainty, and he felt his heart stutter. Holy fuck. What was he getting into?

  Then they burst out of the water into the air, the hot, humid atmosphere like a heavy blanket on their skin. Ian released the machete as their arc crested, then looked down to see that the water had become shallow again, only inches deep as they plummeted back down toward the earth.

  So, yeah, victory that the bottomless chasm was gone, but also…shit. There was no water to cushion their landing, and they were a good thirty feet in the air and moving fast. Because they hadn’t had enough drama already, right? He cradled Alice against him, his only focus to ensure she survived the landing.

  Then, he would deal with what had just happened between them.

  Then, he would find a way to truly claim the woman he was destined to be with…the woman who was his only chance to resist the curse… and the thing most likely to push him over that very edge.

  Chapter Three

  Even cradled in Ian’s arms, the thud of hitting the sand was jarring. But worse for Alice was the realization that the landing had been hard because the water was shallow. The ocean had closed to her again. All that was beneath her was sand. Ordinary, shallow water. Broken shell fragments. Pebbles. Seaweed.

  Dismay tore through Alice as she wrenched herself free from Ian. The pearl clenched in her hand, she scrambled to her feet and checked the sky. It was still blood red, and the turquoise moon was still full, but there were no more clouds. It was a crystal clear night with millions of stars, and no way to access the Mageaan.

  “No, no, no,” she whispered, frantically searching the sky. “It can’t be over. It can’t be.” This night, the opportunity to enter the Mageaan kingdom by an outsider was a rare occurrence, one that came with little warning under the blood red sky.

  “The woman was naked in your arms, and yet she’s more interested in shooting stars than you,” a deep male voice said, jerking her attention back to the present. “There’s no way you can claim she’s yours, Fitz.”

  Alice jerked her gaze off the night sky and looked around. Aside from Ian, who was still in the water behind her, two other warriors were standing on the edge of the beach, watching her intently. Both of them were tall and heavily muscled, but the one on the right looked like death himself. His eyes were a turbulent black, his face angular and furious, his fists clenched as if it was all he could do not to erupt into a murderous rage. Thick black brands slashed across his forearms in the shape of a machete, and she knew he was the one who’d helped t
hem. He was also the one that she’d sensed so much evil in, the man Ian had called Ry.

  The other one was less readable. His light brown hair was tousled, and his jaw was chiseled. He was almost as large as Ry, but there was a litheness in his stance that made her half-expect to see him turn into a wild cat and leap a hundred feet onto one of the massive black rocks rising out of the coastal waters. His eyes were dark, but there was a faint green tint around his pupils. A green tint that reminded her of Flynn Shapiro, her best friend and the last person to kill her.

  “Alice,” Ian rasped out, his voice raw with agony.

  She turned quickly to see him on his hands and knees in the water. His head was bent, hanging toward the ground, and his muscles were flexed, as if he were in great pain. His hair was drenched flat against his head, showcasing the angular lines of his skull.

  Her heart tightened, and she had to force herself not to run to him. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Of course.” He suddenly lurched to his feet, staggering as if it had taken supreme effort to pull himself upright. He faced her and stripped off his tee shirt, still swaying as he fought a battle she couldn’t see. With a muttered curse, he thrust the shirt toward her. “Put this on,” he ordered her. “Now.”

  For a split second, she was too shocked by the sight of him to respond. In the water, she’d been fighting for her life, almost dead, desperate to breathe. She hadn’t had time to notice him, to really see him, but now… Dear God…to call him a specimen wouldn’t even begin to do him justice.

  Stripped bare to the waist, the strength of his frame was undeniable. He was so chiseled it was as if a sculptor had carved every muscle in great detail. Unlike Ry and the other male, Ian wasn’t a bulky mass of muscle. He was wiry and cut, making every curve of each muscle strain against his skin. His shoulders were broad, but he was so fit he seemed to be only bone and steel cords of muscle. A smattering of hair across his chest, and an eight-pack of abs across his stomach were untamed male perfection. Desire leapt through her, hot, throbbing need for the man walking toward her. She swallowed, her pulse pounding in her throat as she watched him approach, each step he took making her body clench in anticipation.