Darkness Arisen (26 page)

She looked sharply at him, betrayal burning in those green eyes. "So, you won't help me? Really?"

He didn't want to disappoint her, but he knew there were limits to what he would do, and this was one of them. "I won't kill Catherine Taylor," he said. "I can't."

The anguish in her eyes was devastating, and Ian swore as he instinctively reached for her.

But Alice held up her hand to block him, and he stopped. She turned away, facing the front of the boat and cutting him off. Ian swore, his body starting to ache at the distance she was putting between them. But he knew it didn't matter what she did or how far she pushed him. He would not betray the oath he'd made to his family, to his father, and to the Order. It defined him, and it was what had made it possible to get through the last six hundred years.

There were no choices to be made.

So, what the hell happened now? What would happen when they got to Cardiff's? Were they still on the same team, or had he just acquired another enemy? He swore and thudded his fist into his hand. What next?

Chapter Thirteen

Alice didn't move from the bow of the boat as she watched the sun begin to set across the horizon. They'd been in the dinghy for almost twelve hours now. By morning, they would be almost there. To Warwick's island. To Catherine. With no way to save her. Or kill her, rather.

Amazingly, Jada had been interested enough in their survival to pack food for them, so at least they weren't hungry. Alice had napped, so she wasn't as tired either. But it wasn't enough to decrease the stress building inside her, despite her best efforts to get into the tropical vacation mindset.

Frustration beat through her, and she glanced back at Ian. He was sitting astride the rear seat, his mace held loosely in his hand. The man was on edge, not at all relaxed, as if he expected a sea monster to leap up out of the water and try to eat him. It made her feel safe, but at the same time, seeing him sitting there looking so lethal was a tease, showing her what he could do if he chose. He could help her kill Catherine if he wanted to, but his commitment to some ideal about the Order was making him blind to what mattered. Shouldn't the bond make him want to help her? Shouldn't the fact that half his damn mace was burned into her arm shift his loyalties to her over the Order and a family that was long dead?

But no. It hadn't. He wanted to make love to her. He would die if she rejected him. But trust her enough to help her without full information? Not a chance. Bastard.

I can hear you, sweetheart. I'm not a bastard.

Alice felt her cheeks heat up and she spun away from him, staring back across the water. After hearing him talk about his father, she knew he wasn't a bastard. Ian may have grown up in the shadow of the curse, but he'd had a father who'd loved him, and that was an incredible gift. If he didn't appreciate and honor that gift,
then
he would be a bastard. She was envious of the way he'd spoken about his father. She'd never had that bond with her mother. As a little girl, she'd tried to impress her, but her mother had been more concerned with angel duties than showering love on a little girl.

Yes, she was an angel of life, but she was a sucky one, and that meant that she could yearn for connection and emotion. She could see it in others. She could scent it as it drifted across her path. She could feel the loss of it, agonize over the absence of it, and envy those who had it. Envy. For an angel? God, what kind of angel was she? How much further would Ian pull her off track if she let him get to her?

Biting back frustration, she took a deep breath, trying to pull her emotions back under control. She focused on the scenery, trying to absorb the beauty of it into her soul. The sun was low in the sky, casting the most magnificent shades of orange, pink, and purple across the water, as if it were lighting up the path the dolphins were supposed to follow. She focused on the sunset, trying to raise her mental shields against him, trying to eliminate his ability to unsettle her.

It's going to be more difficult to block me out since we're blood-bonded. We're locked into each other now.

Alice said nothing, hating how her body and her mind craved him. His deep voice sent waves of comfort and warmth through her, and it made her ache for him. Why could he make her feel like that? If she fell in love with him, she'd become irretrievably broken as an angel. If she fell in love with him, she would try to make the same choice that she'd made before with her mother, saving him out of love, which is why she'd lost the ability to save anyone. She knew it had been taken away from her because she'd proven incapable, and it wouldn't return until she proved herself worthy. As far as she could figure, the only reason she hadn't been fully stripped of her angel status was because she'd been a child when she'd made the decision. And ever since, she'd been gradually falling.

"Shit, Alice. Why didn't you tell me all that?"

Alice spun around, furious that he'd been in her mind. "What is wrong with you? Don't you have any respect for my privacy?"

Ian's eyes glittered. "You were broadcasting. I'd have to be dead not to hear your thoughts."

"I wasn't broadcasting! I was thinking! Privately!"

"You'll have to try harder than that to keep me out." Ian rested the mace across his thigh. "Listen, Alice, I'm sorry I can't help you kill Catherine. Isn't there another way to 'save' her?"

She closed her eyes. "I wish there was."

"You're willing to sacrifice your soul for her?"

"Yes." She didn't hesitate. "Of course."

There was a long silence, then she felt a wash of warmth from Ian. "I respect that," he said. "You're an amazing woman, Alice. Courageous. Committed. I admire you."

Alice scrunched her eyes shut, fighting off the swell of warmth at his kind words. "I'm not," she said. "I'm just not. Don't tell me lies."

"Okay," he agreed. "I just have one question."

She looked over at him. "What is it?"

"Do angels of life protect everyone, or are they assigned to certain people?"

"They get assignments."

He mulled that over for a moment. "Have you ever gotten an assignment?"

"No." She turned away. "No, I haven't."

"Are you sure?"

She looked back at him. "Of course I am."

"Because..." He turned his mace to reflect the sunset. "Ry seems to think that you're part of the angel trinity protecting the Order. If you are our angel of life, then maybe you're the reason that we're so hard to kill. Maybe you've been doing your job all along. Did you ever think of that?"

She stared at him in disbelief. "That's impossible. I would know. I would have sensed you all."

"Are you so sure?" He set the mace down. "Here's the thing, Alice. All Calydons are immortal and damned difficult to kill. But for some reason, the Order of the Blade members are tougher than any of the rest of them. We survive battles that no one should survive. We recover from wounds that no Calydon should heal. Hell, Quinn Masters actually died a few months ago and then revived. It's inexplicable what he did." He leaned forward, his gaze intense. "I thought it was because we're badasses, but now I'm wondering if we're actually protected." He pointed the end of the mace in her direction. "By you."

She gaped at him. "What on earth makes you think that it's me?"

He grinned. "Because we're a bunch of fucked-up bastards, and it would take a pretty fucked-up angel to handle us. You fit the bill."

She stared at him. "You're calling me fucked-up? Are you serious?"

"I mean it as a compliment," he said.

Tears filled her eyes and she turned away, throwing up her mental shields as hard as she could. She felt Ian's grunt of pain, and she knew she'd shut him out. Fucked-up was not what she needed to be. How could he call her that? But though she denied it, she knew it was true, and she understood that he'd intended it as a compliment. But he was a warrior, not an angel, and the standards were different. She couldn't afford to be fucked-up, as he'd so eloquently put it. And there was only one way she could possibly save herself, and that was to make sure Catherine died. Yes, killing Catherine might doom her forever, or it might be the key that would save them both. It was dangerous, but it was a risk she had to take. She had no other options, and regardless of what happened to her, she had a debt to pay off.

If Ian wouldn't help her, there was only one man she knew of who was powerful enough to kill Catherine: Flynn Shapiro, her former best friend and the man who was currently on a mission to murder her.

Flynn would kill her at first chance. But if she could get him to use that energy against Catherine at the same time so that he killed them both... She nodded. It could work. Risky, but her only chance.

She was going to have to let him find her. Back at the beach, Ian's teammate Vaughn had told her that Flynn had infected her with his blood, and he could find her that way. How far would it work?

She gritted her teeth and looked back at Ian. His mace was sitting on his lap, ready to defend or attack at a moment's notice. For a moment, she hesitated as fear rippled through her, then she thought of Ian's words while they were making love, that she was afraid to be who she was, to tap into her power.

Dammit. She wasn't afraid. Well, she was, but she wouldn't let everything around her be destroyed just because she was terrified. Ian was right. She had to be stronger. She had to be braver. She had to stop running away from all of it.

Taking a deep breath, Alice narrowed her eyes and focused on the mace. For a moment, nothing happened. Then suddenly it shot off Ian's lap and into her palm. As Ian looked at her in surprise, she fisted the handle and raked the blade across her palm. Blood spewed out, and she flung her arm into the air, spraying the droplets into the mist before he could stop her. The wind caught some of them, and others fell into the ocean.

The trail had been set.

She could only hope that Flynn found her at the right time. Not too early. Not too late. Or else all was lost.

Ian grabbed her wrist, his eyes blazing. "What did you just do?"

She met his gaze. "I asked for the help you wouldn't give me."

* * *

Flynn Shapiro.

She'd called Flynn Shapiro.

She'd called in the man who'd murdered her two months ago.

Two hours later, Ian was still reeling from Alice's confession. The dark clouds of the curse had begun to close in as he was haunted by the memories of Flynn's poisoned disc slicing across her belly. He couldn't escape the images of Alice writhing in his arms as the toxin killed her, and how he'd been unable to help her.

Restlessly, he shifted in the boat, his brow beginning to sweat as he recalled that horrific moment when Alice's soul had left her body, stripped away by the demons. How he'd stood there with her in his arms, utterly helpless to save her after Flynn had killed her.

Fuck.
Ian pressed his forehead into his palm, trying to block the memories, but they were too strong and too vivid. He could feel all the anguish of that moment when he'd called out his weapons to use them on himself. How he'd been a fraction of a millisecond from killing himself. It was the closest the curse had ever come to taking him. And now, the mere realization that Flynn was on Alice's trail again was almost enough to send him back there.

Alice looked back at him, and her brow was furrowed. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." Swearing, he clenched his fists. There was only one solution. He had to keep her alive.
He had to keep her alive.
But shit, he had to find Cardiff first. How could he focus on both? What if Alice wanted to go off after Catherine, and he needed to track down Cardiff? How could he let her walk away unprotected?
Shit!

"I did what I had to do," she said.

"No. You didn't." He glared at her. "There are other options besides inviting an assassin after you. You have no control over how that will play out. What were you thinking?"

Defiance flared in her eyes. "I told you! I owe Catherine, and you wouldn't help—"

"There are other solutions," he snapped. "There always are."

"There's no other option. Catherine has to die!"

"Why?" He grabbed her arm. "Tell me why!"

"Because—" Alice hesitated. "I can't betray her. It's her secret. But trust me, she needs to die."

Ian closed his eyes at her request. Trust her? Trust her that some angel he'd never met should be killed in cold blood? "How do I trust that request?" he asked. "It goes against everything that defines who I am."

"Killing her goes against everything that defines who I am as well," Alice said. "That's why you should trust me. If I am willing to do it, there must be a reason."

Ian met her gaze and reached out with his mind, brushing against hers. She stiffened and raised her shields against him. "You want me to trust you when you won't let me in?"

"You have loyalty to the Order. I'm loyal to Catherine. How is that different?"

He ran his hand through his hair. "My loyalty didn't compel me to invite an assassin to find me. That's the difference."

She pressed her lips together, and he suddenly saw the pinched skin around her mouth, and the tightness around her eyes. He realized she was terrified of Flynn coming after her. Shit. What had she done? "Alice, I will do what I can to help you. But you need to trust me. If you see Flynn, tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what's going on."

For a long moment, Alice said nothing, then she gave a slight nod. "I feel like I'm so out of my depth," she admitted.

He grinned, relieved that she was connecting with him again. "Yeah, well, you got me, so don't sweat it. I'm a good weapon to have—"

The boat suddenly stopped.

They both turned around as the dolphins shed their harnesses and dove out of sight. There was a slap of their tails on the surface, and then they were gone, leaving the dinghy drifting in the vast sea.

Alice frowned and looked around. "We must be at Warwick's."

They were surrounded by ocean on all sides. Blue sky. Green ocean. Nothing else. "Do you see it?"