Immortal Trust (11 page)

When his kiss took on more demand, she gave freely. Met the seeking thrust of his tongue with equal greed. Satisfaction rumbled in the back of his throat, eliciting her into a soft moan. God, it had been so long since she’d been kissed like this. Maybe she hadn’t ever been … Not so thoroughly. Not so incredibly. No, she’d never before felt like if the kiss ended, something inside her would crack into pieces.

She pressed in closer, and his hand slid down her back. His arms encircled her. The hardness of his breath mirrored her own. Warmth flowed between them where their bodies connected, drawing her deeper into the magic of the moment. Her womb tightened, and moisture gathered between her legs, stark evidence of how she’d starved her body.

Lucan’s fingers pressed against the small of her back, urging her hips into his. She took a wobbly step forward, aligning their bodies from shoulders to toes. But when her belly flattened against the hard length of his arousal, Lucan sucked in a sharp breath and abruptly terminated the kiss.

He took a step back. Slowly, he released her from the protective circle of his arms. With one hand, he turned the door handle. His mouth danced once more across hers, chaste and soft. “Good night, Chloe.”

“Good night,” she whispered as he stepped into the hall.

CHAPTER 9

Lucan let himself inside Gareth’s room and made his way through the dark to the empty sofa. He said a quiet prayer on finding Gareth sprawled across the bed, snoring quietly. Conversation was the last thing he wished to encounter after what had transpired on the threshold of Chloe’s room.

Damnation, he had not intended one kiss to go so far. If it had not been for the fierce surge of white heat that shot stars through his mind when her body nestled against his swollen shaft, he would have taken her there on the floor. He was not opposed to such a notion—floor, bed, wall, couch, where mattered little. ’Twas the timing that concerned him. The hesitancy in her amber eyes before she yielded to the kiss. If she were not fully ready for something so simple, she would not embrace their inevitable joining. Her body would, aye. But she would regret waking from the haze of desire.

When he took her, and aye, he would, ’twould be to both her heart and her body that he brought pleasure.

He pulled off his boots and stretched out on the cushions. ’Twas also the matter of the glyph he must negotiate before he could consider a deeper involvement with Chloe. Oaths and vows aside, what she showed him tonight concerned him far more than the demons that collected in her shadow. The two paired hand in hand, but Chloe carried the mark of Azazel.

Someone in Egypt branded her for the dark lord.

Centuries had passed since he last witnessed the mark of Saladin’s most faithful. So much time he thought to never look upon the glyph again. Yet tonight, he discovered it in his seraph.

Her hesitancy to accept a fair agreement regarding the Veronica added to the burden of his mind. Her resistance, combined with the demons and Alaric’s words, only increased his suspicions that Azazel had already approached Chloe. Lucan could find no other reason for the mounting list of oddities about his intended mate.

Her on-and-off demeanor. Her fierce arguments that he did not trust her. Her insistence to guard the Veronica on her own, her refusal to open the reliquary with anyone else present—all acts that united her with the unholy one.

Add into the mix that unlike the previous pairings of Templar and seraphs, he could find no real obstacle to overcome, and as much as he wished to deny it, he could not turn away from the very likely possibility Chloe had been seduced by evil and worked to find a means of turning over the Veil. His presence, along with Caradoc’s and Gareth’s, made what she had been tasked with difficult. For if she chose to surrender the relic whilst they were present, she would fail.

She would not perish, but she would fail, and restoring her from Azazel’s clutches might well erase what remained of her mind.

God’s teeth—could he be part of a greater nightmare?

Tossing an elbow over his eyes, he groaned. Nay, he was missing something. He must be. If Chloe’s soul housed darkness, his would recognize it. As his spirit balked each time he confronted Azazel’s minions and stirred each time he crossed their vile path, he would feel darkness within her when he stood at her side.

Though his body had most assuredly awakened, tonight the darkness slumbered.

Lucan squeezed his temple between thumb and middle finger to drown out the noise. For the first time in a great many years, he questioned his ability to succeed in the Almighty’s design. If he could not sift through fact and fiction and separate suspicion from what he recognized as truth, he could not hope to gain her oath. He would fail, and the prophecy would shatter.

One undeniable fact stood apart from the rest—he could not approach her about her Nephilim blood until he knew the meaning of the glyph. If he confided her status as a seraph, and she did indeed serve Azazel, the dark lord would have his new Lilith in a heartbeat. Azazel would steal Chloe away, use her body for his pleasure and her healing spirit for his destruction. All the light she carried would assume his taint, and in so doing, grant her phenomenal power. She would become Azazel’s ally. His lover. His
mate.

Christ, but Lucan did not know which way to proceed. If she were pure, presenting her with the seraphs’ torc protected her.

Lucan flopped onto his side in search of comfort he would not find. Wide awake, he stared out the window, listening for trouble through the walls.

He would have to wait. Bide his time and observe her carefully. She could not hide a dark purpose if he became her constant companion. Azazel could not reach her either. In protecting her, Lucan would die, but she would come to understand the danger she faced. The temple could offer her protection after his demise. Mayhap even find her another eventual mate.

*   *   *

A steady
thump-thump
drew Chloe from pleasant dreams. She opened her eyes, half expecting to find Lucan beside her in the bed, then blushed as her gaze fell on the empty pillow. No warm body at her side. Just in her imagination.

But man, oh man, he was every bit as incredible in her dreams as he’d been in her doorway. Giving in to a goofy smile, she sank deep into the pillows and pretended not to notice the
scritch-scratching
on her window pane. She never should have allowed him to kiss her. She’d known it would mess with her head. Now she ached in all the places that she’d convinced herself didn’t exist. Restlessness infused her blood. Her breasts felt heavy, her skin too tight.

She tossed and turned and finally let out a frustrated sigh. “Damn,” she muttered.

Another heavy thump brought her upright in bed. Cocking her head, she eyed the door. She leaned over and switched on the light. As light filled her room, the dark presence registered in the forefront of her mind. From beyond the window it bore down on her like iron weights, so thick and suffocating she couldn’t bring herself to look for fear she’d see the beast through the drawn draperies. The hairs along her arms lifted. Her chest constricted, making normal breath impossible.

“Is someone there?” she called out.

“It’s me, open the damn door, I’ve been knocking for twenty minutes. People are starting to peek in the hall,” Julian answered with a touch of exasperation.

Twenty minutes? Good grief, she must have been out like a rock. Relief, however, accompanied the sound of her brother’s voice, and she tossed the covers back to shuffle to the door. The chain lock rattled in the quiet, followed by the click of the heavy dead bolt. Chloe yawned as she opened the door.

Julian marched past her, looking like he’d shared the same restless slumber. His short blond hair stuck out at odd angles. Though fully dressed, his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest and his belt buckle jangled at his waist. She dropped her gaze to his feet, observing he hadn’t tied the laces on his boots either. “Julian, is something wrong?”

He pushed long fingers through his hair and shook his head. A frown marred the high line of his brow, a sure signal something was eating at him. But the way his eyes darted around the room, as if he feared someone waited for him in the shadows, aroused Chloe’s concern. Something was most definitely wrong with her brother. Had he fought with Miranda? Gone home with the wrong girl and run into her boyfriend? Husband maybe?

“What is it, Julian?”

“I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about that trunk. Keep seeing it in my head.”

The trunk? For the love of Mary, he’d woken her up in the middle of the night about the
relic
? Chloe gritted her teeth and called on her patience. “Can’t this wait until morning?”

“No!” He shook his head violently. “Let’s open it, Chloe. Now. We can surprise the team tomorrow. Hell, we can even pretend we know nothing when we get there. But let’s open it. I’ll go crazy if I don’t find out what’s inside.”

Dumbfounded, Chloe squinted at her brother. “You’ve been drinking.”

“No, I swear I’m sober.” He held up both hands in defense. Jumped on one foot. “See. Look. No wobbling.” In a burst of unexpected energy, he rushed to her and caught her hands between them. “Let’s open it, sis. What if it’s filled with gold?”

One long, slow blink didn’t change the situation as she’d hoped. Julian didn’t disappear, and she didn’t wake up to find this weird tirade of his had been a dream. She shook her hands free. “Go back to bed, Julian. For that matter maybe you ought to go find a stiff drink and unwind.”

“Let me see it, sis?” he pleaded quietly. “Just once more. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

For a moment, she entertained the idea of pulling the relic out of her safe just for the sake of appeasing him so he’d go away. But as the notion surfaced, she dismissed it just as quickly. If she showed him the relic, in his current zealousness, she’d have to spend another hour disarming his ideas of opening the trunk. She went to the door instead. Holding it open, she pointed into the hall. “Out. Go back to bed, Julian. We’ll talk about the relic in the morning.”

“But—”

“Out,” she insisted a bit louder. “I’m not doing this tonight. I’m tired, and I want to go back to sleep.”

She braced for his scowl. Anticipated a rush of angry words. Julian’s temper could put hers to shame when something really upset him. If she were lucky, he’d vent and blow, and then tomorrow they could talk about this rationally. If she weren’t lucky, his attitude would cling to him throughout the next day, and God only knew how many others.

Instead, he merely stared at her, his expression flat, void of all emotion. His eyes locked with hers, but those blues that were usually so full of warm light darkened to a dull lifeless shade of near black. He looked beyond her, as if he saw something on the distant wall.

Vacant.

“Julian?”

As if someone snapped fingers in front of his face, his eyes focused on her. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He forked his fingers through his hair again and gave her a half smile. “Tired. Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.” She tipped her head toward the open door. “Get out of here. I need my beauty rest.”

With a curt nod, opposed to the grin she expected, he strode into the hall. Chloe eased the door shut, locked it, then leaned her weight into it. Evidently they were both losing their grip on reality. Julian couldn’t sleep over a fabulous relic, and she’d crossed boundaries with Lucan. The next thing she’d know, Andy would start hitting on women.

The light dimmed as a low wind whistled around her windows. Outside, the scratching raked across the glass like nails on a chalkboard. Chloe stiffened. When would it stop? What did it take to have one decent night’s sleep? Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed away from the door and turned around.

As she looked to the curtained window, the glass shook with an earthquake’s force. Chloe dove for a small red satchel on the opposite side of the bed. The curtains shimmied, whipped against her hand.

“Damn you, go back to the hell you spawned from,” she muttered as her fingers curled around the crushed velvet. Sitting up, she jerked the drawstrings open and stuffed her hand inside. She grabbed a stick of sage incense, a stick of vanilla, and a small butane lighter. Lighting them both, she swallowed hard and swung her legs off the side of the bed nearest the window.

The racket grew ominous. A spine-tingling
crack
issued from the glass. Chloe steeled herself against the overwhelming malice that enveloped her. She took a step closer, drew in a deep breath. As she exhaled, she recited the words she’d used on only one previous occasion.

“In the name of the Almighty, I banish you from this place. Go now, you cannot bring me harm.” Sweeping her hand before her body, she waved the purifying smoke toward the glass. “Mighty Gabriel, hear these words, protect me with your sacred might.”

Beyond, something let out a low, hollow moan.

The curtains stilled. An eerie calm descended on the room. Her hands shook as she set the incense across the mouth of a wineglass and collapsed onto her bed. Huddled into a ball, she pulled a bracelet of blue beads from the pouch and slipped it around her wrist.

Then, she allowed her tears to fall.

CHAPTER 10

Darkness surrounded Julian. Closeted away in his bottom-floor room, he sat in the chair near the window and grasped at the last bits of sanity he possessed. Tonight he had nearly attacked his sister. Would have, if she hadn’t spoken his name and pulled him out of the depths of the abyss that engulfed his mind. For what, he couldn’t recall. Or perhaps he had never known in the first place.

It
knew. This beast that fed off his soul knew precisely why it had gone to Chloe’s room in the middle of the night.

He, however, only recalled the struggle for power, the sheer effort required to keep
it
at bay. Most days he failed. When he felt his strength weaken and the beast began to dominate, he retreated far from Chloe. Something about her enraged the demon. No … Enraged wasn’t right. It only ever felt rage when she thwarted its plans. His sister
aroused
the demon. As if it recognized something about her and yearned to draw her into its arms.