Darkness Seduced (Primal Heat Trilogy #2) (Order of the Blade) (6 page)

She screamed and slammed on the brakes, but he grabbed the frame as the truck spun out. Then the tires caught and the Hummer flipped, sailing through the air. It landed on its roof with an agonizing impact that whipped her head back and skidded across the asphalt as the earsplitting shriek of metal being ripped apart rent the night.

Hanging upside down in the inverted truck, Lily fumbled with the seatbelt, her numb fingers struggling to push the release button. “Come on!” How close was he? Was he still on the truck? Had he been thrown off? The scenery was spinning too fast as the truck whirled. She was dizzy, disoriented, and nauseous. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to regain her equilibrium as she frantically worked on the seatbelt.

She found the button and jammed her thumb into it, the truck still screaming its protest as it spun across the road on its roof toward the ditch. The seatbelt released with sudden force and Lily dropped out of the seat, thudding onto her shoulders, her feet tangled in the steering wheel. Frantically, she tried to free herself. She had to hurry. She knew he was still out there.
Please, God, give me time to get away.

With a fierce kick that sent pain spiraling through her knee, Lily finally got her foot untangled from the steering wheel. She hastily rolled to her knees and hunched low to peer out the windshield, searching desperately for her assailant. The trees were rushing past, the white lines on the pavement whipping like undulating snakes, sparks leaping off the road as the truck tore its way across the asphalt. There was no way she could get out while it was still moving. Damn it! Where was he?

She peered up toward the front bumper, trying to see him. There was a shadow near the right headlight. His foot? She leaned closer, straining to identify it—

He swung down from the left front wheel, hanging by one arm, inches away from her, like a beast sprung from the night, his teeth gleaming in the darkness. His eyes met hers, and for a split second, she was overwhelmed by the ruthless promise in his dark eyes. They were the windows into the soul of hell, a bottomless pit of violence and death, without morals, ethics or humanity. He wasn’t rogue. He was simply a monster. And he was after her.

“Crap!” She jerked back.

He lunged for her, springing off his perch with terrifying ease. His fingers latched around her wrist with violent force and he yanked, jerking her through the shattered windshield.

“No!” She grabbed for the steering wheel, but her fingers slipped uselessly off the slick leather as he dragged her out of the truck.

He tossed her away from the spinning vehicle. She sailed through the air, and landed with agonizing force on the pavement. The asphalt tore at her skin as she slid across it, her bones thudding against the hard ground as momentum flung her across the road.

The Calydon landed beside her, grabbed her arm and jerked her to a brutal stop. She gasped, but he gave her no respite, hauling her to feet immediately.

He grabbed her shoulders, holding her ruthlessly as if she were nothing but a puppet. His cheekbones were high and fine, his hair short, his black pullover made of finely woven wool. He was clean-shaven, not a scar to behold, and the white collar of a starched dress shirt peeked above the V-neck of his sweater. Except for the gritty determination in his eyes and the sheer size of him, he looked like a man who should be spending his time with a bourbon and a stock report, not streaking through a midnight desert, chasing down Hummers and innocent women. What in God’s name was he doing working for Frank? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why are you after me? I didn’t do anything.”

Something flickered in his eyes. For a split second, she thought she saw a flash of humanity, the agony of a man torn by his conscience. Hope leapt through her. “Release me,” she urged. “Please!”

“Never.” And just as quickly, the assassin was back. His eyes were a bottomless black. Not rogue, but violent and deadly, a merciless willingness to do whatever was needed. Whatever humanity had been trying to surface had been denied.

He grabbed her around the waist and she realized he was going to pick her up and cart her away into the night like some chattel to be disposed of as Frank saw fit.

“No!” She slammed her fist into his throat as she scrambled away from him.

He swore, and she saw in his eyes a promise of hell.

He held out his right arm. She a saw the black brand of his kind on his forearm, in the shape of his weapon. The machete glowed for a split second, then there as a flash of black light and an explosive crack. The machete appeared in his hand, a stainless steel weapon that he’d called out of the brand into reality.

“Oh, crap.” She could see in his eyes that he was going to use it on her. Anything to make her behave. Panic rifled through her, and she leapt backward.

He smiled as she stumbled, the face of a predator who was enjoying watching his prey try to flee, knowing he could stop her at any second.

It couldn’t end like this. So close to freedom, only to fail like this. God, she couldn’t go back into captivity. She couldn’t do it again. She couldn’t—

He grabbed for her and she dove out of the way. He caught her ankle and she kicked at him, her bare feet useless against his hard body. She twisted frantically, her ankle rotating in his hand, but she knew it was too little, too late—

His head jerked up and he stared down the road. Taking advantage of his distraction, Lily yanked herself free and sprinted behind the Hummer as he scented the air. He cursed, and then spun toward her.

She froze as he crouched, ready to launch himself at her.

He looked down the road again, then back at her. What did he sense? What was coming?

He took a step toward her, then swore again, spun around and bolted up into the sand hills, so fast he was nothing but a blur.

The night swallowed him instantly, leaving her alone on the dark road. Gone? He’d really left? He hadn’t taken her?

She stared blankly after him, trying to regroup, trying to comprehend that he’d simply left her there. Something had scared him. A threat. What was it?

Chills raced down her spine and she whirled toward the truck before she remembered its state. Her only way home: upside down, the roof half-torn off, its tires spinning aimlessly. The light from the headlights were pointing haphazardly across the deep grooves the SUV had carved into the road.

No way home. No way to safety. No more choices.

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes, and she stared at it, watching the expensive hubcaps whirring. Her head ached, her vision blurred, and she realized how completely screwed she was.
I can’t take this anymore. I can’t.

Then she heard the rumble of an engine. She turned and saw headlights lighting up the night as a car raced toward her. She realized the Calydon had heard the car coming, and that’s why he’d bailed: because the occupants of the car had scared him off. She stared into the approaching headlights, and suddenly knew who was in the vehicle.
Gideon.
Just the thought of him made desire and fear thrum through her, nearly staggering in from its intensity.

She needed to run. To hide. To get away.

But something deep inside her told her she didn’t need to run anymore. Not now.

She fought against it, tried to order her body to flee, but her legs gave out and she sank to the road as the truck peeled around the corner. She flinched as brakes squealed and the truck spun wildly, but the driver managed to keep the enormous black pickup from flipping. It finally skidded to a stop inches from the overturned Hummer. Gideon leapt out of the truck and raced toward her, his face raw with fury that should have terrified her.

But it didn’t. She was simply too depleted to fear him, too weary to overcome her need to stop fighting and to put her care in someone else’s hands.

“No.” She summoned up all her willpower and held up an exhausted hand as he neared her. “Don’t touch me.”

He hesitated at whatever he saw on her face, and for a moment, she thought she’d won. He wasn’t going to help.

Then she suddenly was overwhelmed with such grief and despair that she doubled over, her arms wrapped around her belly, and she knew then that she’d finally lost the battle.

Gideon grasped her shoulders, intending to support her, but the contact shocked him. It was like an electric spark leaping from her body to his. Lily sucked in her breath and she stared at him in shock. Her skin was hot, so decadently soft, so feminine and alive beneath his hands.

Her eyes widened, and he felt her sudden flush of desire. It was the same crash of physical awareness that had hit them both at Nate’s house. It was more intense now, so much more, because of the physical contact between them. Fear rippled through her, and Gideon tensed, certain she was going to pull away. Every impulse in him roared with refusal to allow her to pull back, his unwillingness to lose contact with her.

But she didn’t retreat.

To his shock and utterly male satisfaction, she leaned slightly into his touch, accepting his offer.

Gideon immediately closed the distance between them, sliding his hands down her upper arms. He could feel every curve of her muscles and the angle of her bones. She was so thin, but at the same time, there was power vibrating beneath her skin. Lily was far from human, pulsing with power that roared through him like great temptation.

There was the thud of footsteps as Ian suddenly took off across the pavement and sprinted into the desert. Gideon didn’t follow, knowing Ian would have let him know if he needed help. He stayed right where he was, shielding Lily with his body, accepting her violent emotions, and running his hands over skin that was too precious to be marred with so many bruises.

“I’ve got you,” he said simply. There were no more words to say. Nothing more he could offer. That was all he had to give: his protection. His ability to protect was what defined him, and he gave it to her.

Lily turned her head slightly, so her cheek rested against his, and he felt a pulse of absolute rightness at the contact. She smelled sweet, delicate. Innocent. Desire hit him hard in his gut again, and he had to force himself not to turn his head to kiss her. It would take only one move to capture her lips with his, to taste her, to claim her.

“Gideon.” His name was a whisper in the night, almost angelic the way it drifted off her lips.

“Yeah, it’s Gideon.” His voice sounded rough and raw in comparison to hers.

“Why?”

He rubbed his thumbs over her arms, not sure whether he was touching her for his sake or hers. “Why what?”

She pressed her face more tightly against him, nuzzling into the crevice between his shoulder and his neck, as if she was trying to crawl inside him and hide. He loved her instinct, her natural inclination to use him for safety.

“Why did you come for me?” Her voice was muffled, her breath warm.

“Ana sent us.” It wasn’t the entire story, but it was enough for now. “We’re not here to hurt you. Trust me.” He slid his arms slowly around her waist, needing desperately to hold her, driven mad by the feel of her nestled against him. He felt like the heat from her skin was burning through her thin shirt, and he wanted to tear it off her, destroying that which the rogue Calydon had shredded when he’d violated her.

“I can’t,” she said. “I can’t trust you.” But even as Lily spoke, she untangled her hands from her belly and found the front of his shirt, clenching tightly. A small sob broke free, twisting his gut into knots. “I’m so tired,” she whispered. “I’m so tired of fighting. I want to go home. My family must think I’m dead—” Her voice broke and anger roared through him at her pain.

Lily tensed, and he knew she’d felt his fury. He swore and forced it aside, drawing upon five hundred years of practice to pull his shit together. “I know, Lily. I know.” He gently lifted her up and eased her onto his lap, unable to accept the sight of her battered knees on the hard cement any longer.

Despite the fear he could still feel emanating from her, Lily curled into a tight ball, her bare toes tucked between his thighs, her knees snug against her chest, and her face tucked against her knees as she hugged her legs.

God, yes. This was right to have her against him, turning herself over to him.

Gideon pressed his face to her hair, inhaling her scent, drinking it into his soul as if he’d never get another chance. This was his moment: right here, right now, with this woman he didn’t even know in his arms, trusting him when she had no trust left in her soul.

He started to rub her back, then jerked his hand off when she yelped and twisted, trying to get away. “Shit, sorry.” He cursed himself for pushing too hard.

“No, it’s okay.” Those mossy green eyes were filled with agony, and apology. “Sorry. It wasn’t you.”