Fear the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity) (9 page)

BOOK: Fear the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity)
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“Fine, I’ll play.” Like he had a choice? “What’s the warning?”

“In the very near future Cassie is going to demand that you leave her.”

Leave her? Caine was instantly furious. “She wouldn’t.”

Yannah heaved a resigned sigh. “Why do males always make everything so difficult?”

“Are you a prophet?” he managed between clenched teeth.

“No.” The demon shook her head, sending her long braid sliding across her back. “Cassie stands alone with her gift.”

“Gift?” Caine snarled. “It’s a freaking curse.”

“Perhaps.”

He lowered the gun, afraid in his current mood he might do something stupid. It was his usual modus operandi. Besides, it wasn’t going to do him a damned bit of good.

“If you’re not a seer, then how do you know what Cassie will or won’t do in the future?”

“My mother, Siljar, is an Oracle.”

“Shit.” The last thing he needed was interference from the Commission, or as he called them, the Pain-in-the-Asses-Who-Ruled-the-Demon-World. “How does she know?”

“She possesses a talent for sensing a principium.”

He grimaced, recognizing the term. It meant that Cassie was important enough to the future of the world that her life was written in the stars.

“A thread of destiny,” he muttered.

“So you aren’t just a pretty face.” Yannah flashed her razor teeth. Yikes. “Unusual.”

“I try,” he said dryly. “I’m still not entirely clear on why you’re here.”

“The fate of all of us rests upon young Cassie’s shoulders.”

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, fate can go screw itself,” he retorted, knowing he was being childish. But, dammit, he was standing helplessly in the middle of a desert while the female he was obsessed with protecting was crawling through the dirt until she bled. He had a right to think destiny or fate, or whatever a person wanted to call it, totally sucked.

Something that might have been sympathy touched the heart-shaped face. “It’s her destiny,” she said softly, “but she doesn’t have to walk her path alone.”

“She’s not alone.” Caine frowned. “Unless you mean her sisters? Cassie has refused to contact them.”

“No, I speak of you. You must never waver.”

Waver? Was she freaking kidding? His anger returned. With interest. “Are you questioning my loyalty?”

“No, but like most alpha males you have more pride than sense.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I told you.” She looked at him as if wondering if he’d always been so stupid. “Cassie will come to a crossroads. In that moment she will try to push you away. You must not allow her to leave you behind.”

“She’s not going anywhere without me,” he snapped. “Not ever.”

His fierce words were still ringing through the air when there was a faint groan from behind him. He turned, his heart halting as he watched Cassie collapse onto the desert floor.

“Shit.” With one leap he was bending down beside her, knocking the rock out of her hand before tugging her slender body against his chest. No use taking a chance of getting beaned. A distinct possibility if she was still caught in her vision.

He brushed his lips over her forehead, pulling back as her lashes fluttered upward to reveal her eyes. Back to emerald. Thank the gods.

“Caine?” she husked.

“I got you.”

She blinked, her dazed eyes taking in the star-spattered sky over his shoulder before shifting to glance over the barren desert. “Where are we?”

He grimaced. “In the middle of freaking nowhere.”

Her brow furrowed in bewilderment. “I thought . . .”

“What?”

“I thought I heard voices.”

Oh hell. Caine jerked his head up. He’d completely forgotten the strange intruder.

Gone. Thank the gods. He didn’t care why Yannah had come. Or how she’d managed to appear and disappear without leaving a trace. All that mattered was that the powerful demon wasn’t anywhere near Cassie.

He returned his attention to the woman in his arms. “We’re alone,” he assured her softly. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” She gently pried herself from his ruthless hold, taking a puzzled inventory of her fading scrapes and bruises. Then, as if seeking the reason for the wounds, her attention shifted to the glyphs she’d carved into the desert floor. “Did I do this?”

“Quite the Picasso,” he said, forcing a teasing smile to his lips as he helped her to her feet. He had no intention of burdening her with his fierce fear that one day she would disappear into her visions and never return. She had enough to deal with, thank you very much. “Do you happen to know
why
you did it?”

“No, but I think this is why we were here.”

Good news. At least he hoped it was. He was tired of trying to protect Cassie in such a populated area. Of course, there was no guarantee they weren’t about to be led someplace even worse.

On that happy thought, he pointed toward the strange symbols. “What does it say?”

“It’s a warning.” She frowned, shaking her head. “At least I think it’s a warning.”

He cupped her chin in his hand, tugging her face up so he could study her pale features. His heart faltered. Man, she was so beautiful drenched in moonlight.

“How can you reveal a prophecy and not know what it is?”

“It’s not for me,” she said as if the simple words weren’t a mind-bender.

“Then who . . . ?” He gave a sharp shake of his head as she swayed in weariness. “Never mind,” he muttered, scooping her off her feet and cradling her in his arms. “Are we finished here?”

“Yes.”

He peered deep into the emerald eyes. “Does that mean we can go home?”

“Home?”

“You have someplace better to be?” he demanded, praying to the gods that she said no.

She frowned. “It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“I’ve never had a home.”

That dangerous, intoxicating warmth filled his heart and spilled through his body. Caine didn’t care. Bending his head, he touched his lips to hers in a reverent vow.

“You do now.”

Chapter 5

Despite the early hour, Caine had them packed up and checked out of the hotel by sunrise.

Not that Cassie was in the mood to argue. She would always harbor fond memories of Vegas.

A smile touched her lips. No, not just
fond
. Stunningly fabulous memories.

Even now she could close her eyes and recall every touch, every kiss, every mind-blowing orgasm. In vivid, X-rated detail.

But she was more than happy to return to Caine’s lair outside Chicago. What could be better than having Caine all to herself without the distraction of trying to blend in?

It was exhausting trying to be normal.

With a sigh of contentment, she shifted in her seat, the breeze tugging at her hair. Caine had removed the top of the Jeep and the late afternoon sunlight spilled over her skin left bare by her khaki shorts and stretchy tube top. Lazily, she watched the cornfields of Nebraska whiz pass, breathing deeply of Caine’s warm, wolfy musk.

The smell of him . . . grounded her. There was no other way to say it. Even when she was lost in the dark mists of her visions, when she was blind to the world, she could catch his scent nearby and know that nothing could harm her.

Dwelling on the miracle that had brought Caine into her life, Cassie was unprepared for the burst of unease that destroyed her momentary illusion of peace.

She straightened, reaching out to touch Caine’s shoulder. “Pull over.”

He shot a frowning glance toward the endless miles of corn. “Here?”

“Yes.”

With obvious reluctance, he slowed the Jeep and pulled onto the shoulder. He turned his attention to her. “Are you sick?”

Puzzled by the question, she gave a shake of her head. “I’m fine.”

“Then you have to pee?”

“No.”

“Then what the hell are we doing?”

“The phone.”

He scowled. “What . . .” The sound of his ring tone brought his words to an abrupt end. “Shit,” he muttered, digging his cell phone out of the front pocket of his jeans. “I’m never going to get used to that.” He glanced at the screen, his scowl only deepening. “Ingrid.”

“A friend?” she forced herself to ask, squashing the odd stab of aversion toward the unknown female.

This phone call was important. Even if she didn’t know why.

“A lifetime ago,” he muttered. “Why would she be calling now?”

She slid until she was leaning against the hard muscles of his shoulder. “I don’t know everything.” She pointed her finger toward the phone. “Maybe if you push that little button and talk with her you’ll find out.”

He turned his head to nip the end of her nose. “Smart-ass.”

She wasn’t fooled by his playful manner. There was something troubling him. “Why don’t you answer?”

He grimaced. “She’s a part of my past I want to forget.”

The ringing stopped as the phone sent the caller to voice mail only to start again seconds later.

“I don’t think she agrees with being a part of your past.” Cassie studied Caine’s tight expression, feeling his tension as if it were her own. “Was she your lover?”

“No. But . . .” Regret flashed through his stunning blue eyes as he reached to outline her lips with the tip of his finger. “There were women, Cassie. I don’t share your innocence.”

She hesitated, realizing that the unpleasant sensation that had been plaguing her since Caine’s phone started ringing was jealousy. How . . . astonishing.

“You have a lover now?”

His lips twitched, easily sensing her inner turmoil. “Only one,” he assured her, leaning forward to steal a possessive kiss. “The rest are a part of that past I intend to forget.”

Cassie nodded, the tightness in her chest easing, although the phone continued its annoying ringing. “She’s very persistent,” she muttered, her finger moving to point at the top of the phone screen. “What’s that blinking light?”

“She sent me a video.”

Cassie tensed, her personal emotions smothered beneath the power of her forewarning. “I think you should watch it.”

He studied her with a frown. “Are you speaking as a jealous lover or as a prophet?”

She considered a long moment. “Both.”

His breath hissed between clenched teeth. “I don’t have to be a seer to know I’m not going to like this.”

“Play it, Caine,” she softly commanded.

He muttered something beneath his breath, but holding the phone at an angle so they could both easily view the screen, he tapped the blinking light.

Within seconds a young female with hazel eyes and oddly buzzed blond hair flickered to life, her features more striking than pretty as she flashed a cocky smile.

“Long time, no see,
liebling
,” she said, her voice low and raspy. “I suppose you don’t have time for your old friends now that you’re a big bad Were.” The female’s lips curled in disdain. “Yeah, word’s out that you’ve turned traitor to the curs. So listen closely—you got what you wanted, now I want it. If you can become a Were, so can I. And to make sure you don’t blow me off as you have everyone else, I have a little . . . incentive.”

The video went blurry as Ingrid swung her phone camera toward the side and downward. For a minute there was nothing but the vague outline of a person, then the camera came back into focus and Cassie gasped in shock.

The tiny female filling the screen was almost an exact replica of herself. Oh, her hair was a few inches shorter and more golden than silver. And her slender body, which was covered in a casual pair of jeans and stretchy blue shirt, was toned by obvious hours spent in a gym. But her heart-shaped face was precisely the same and if her eyes had been opened, Cassie was willing to bet that they would be some shade of green.

It was one of her three sisters. They hadn’t yet been formally introduced, but the resemblance was too great for it to be anyone else.

“Harley.” Caine answered her unspoken question, his finger pressing the screen to pause the video.

Cassie clutched his arm in horror, frantically studying the image of her sister bound to a chair with silver chains and a heavy silver collar around her neck. She appeared to be unconscious as her head drooped to the side, a thin line of blood trailing down her cheek from a wound to her temple.

“Oh my God, she’s hurt,” she breathed, turning to find Caine watching her with concern. “Is there more to the video?”

“Yes, but maybe you should let me—”

“Play it,” she pleaded. “Please.”

She felt his muscles clench beneath her fingers, but with obvious reluctance he at last pressed his thumb to the screen and the image of Harley was joined by Ingrid as she knelt beside the chair.

“If you want her released unharmed . . .” The female cur smirked. “Well, relatively unharmed, then call me so we can set up a meet and greet. You have twenty-four hours. Oh, and if you’re thinking about sharing this video with your new allies . . . don’t.” She leaned sideways so the camera could catch her hand reaching toward the small bulge of Harley’s belly. “If I even suspect that I’m being hunted, the first to die will be these sweet, innocent pups.” She pressed her lips to the phone. “Call me,
liebling
.”

The video went black and Caine clenched the phone until the case threatened to shatter.

“I’m going to kill that bitch.”

Cassie nodded, fully onboard with the kill-the-bitch plan, but only after they were certain Harley was safe.

“Would she really hurt the babies?”

The muscle of his jaw knotted as he visibly fought the urge to protect her with a lie.

“Yes.”

“We have to rescue her.” She frowned as he pressed his thumb against the phone screen to replay the video. “Caine, did you hear me?”

“It’s a trap,” he muttered.

“What sort of trap?”

He hit pause, his brow furrowed as he studied the image of Ingrid standing in a dark room with shelves of wine bottles in the background.

“It could be a trick that your sisters dreamed up to lure you back to their protection.”

She snorted. It was no secret her sisters were desperate to have her returned to the bosom of her family. But she didn’t for a moment think they would go to such extremes. “They wouldn’t.”

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