leathers for another thong, he tied the loose strands back into a ponytail.
Even if, by some miracle, there was a way to overcome his cursed affliction, he had so little to offer her. A dead heart and a soul stained black with his many sins. All those innocents he’d killed in the name of eliminating demonii infestation. What female in her right mind would want a mate like him?
He exhaled roughly. No, he would do the right thing. Once he killed the demon responsible for hurting Echo, he’d walk away.
Like Týr pointed out, they were warriors and their lives solitary ones.
Aethan glanced around. Where the hell was Blaéz?
He cast his mind out into the night, scanning. His senses alerted him that he wasn’t alone. A few seconds later, the Celt materialized like a ghost several feet from him.
“What’s going on?” Aethan demanded. Right then he didn’t care if the city had been invaded by demoniis .
Blaéz didn’t answer, his eyes cool but searching. If he had a vision or premonition or whatever the hell got his jones going, he gave no sign of it. But those winter pale eyes, almost pearlescent in the night, trailed over him.
“You aren’t hurt,” Blaéz finally spoke.
“No shit.” Why else would he be tracking feet outside the oracle’s house?
“Makes sense now,” Blaéz said. “I saw something. Demoniis— a concealed place.They will take a mortal and you are a part of it. I called you but you’d shut down your telepathic link and didn’t answer your cell.”
Aethan pulled out his cell phone. He stared at the melted lump of plastic and metal in his hand. Another dark reminder of why it could never be. Phones, he could replace, but not Echo.
“Guess that explains why my call went unanswered,” Blaéz said.
“I eliminated the bastards. That’s why you were unable to reach me.” He dropped the melted phone back in his pocket. “But she got hurt. I brought her here.”
Aethan glanced up at the house. Lights shone from the brownstone’s windows despite the late hour.
“She’s strong. Must have incredible shields if they couldn’t bend her mind to theirs and get her to enter the portal.”
Aethan’s eyes narrowed at Blaéz’s comment. For the first time he saw something other than apathy on the Celt’s face. Interest.
The expression wasn’t one he cared for.
“What?” he growled. He might as well have taken out a billboard ad. He couldn’t even control his own possessive responses.
“They will try again,” Blaéz said, still staring at the house.
“Then they’ll have to go through me.”
“She confuses them with her resilient mind.”
“Why are you concerned?”
Blaéz turned. His eyes seemed to smirk in the moonlight. His voice, however, remained cool like the wind snagging their coats. “She’s different. Intriguing. Her destiny entwines with yours, but you’ve already made your decision.”
“Meaning?”
“You weren’t ready to listen yesterday,” Blaéz reminded him. “This path you’ve chosen to travel? Be prepared for the consequences. Later.” Blaéz sauntered off down the street, like a damn apparition.
Aethan should have known better than to ask the Celt anything. His obscure reference was a damn pain in the ass. He took the stairs to the oracle’s house.
At his knock, the door opened to reveal a tall, curvy brunette with hair woven into multiple braids, dressed in jeans and pale green sweater. She had to be the oracle’s granddaughter, Kira. And Echo’s friend.
Her latte-colored skin was blotchy from crying, her red-rimmed hazel eyes widened in surprise when she saw him.
“Lila?” he asked her.
“Gran’s busy,” she sniffed. “You’re gonna have to wait a while.” She brushed at her eyes and stepped aside, letting him into the house.
The strong odor of roots and other musty smelling herbal mixtures wafted to him. “Hold on, what’s wrong—Echo?” His gut clenched in panic and he anxiously scanned upstairs for her. Finding the
Even if, by some miracle, there was a way to overcome his cursed affliction, he had so little to offer her. A dead heart and a soul stained black with his many sins. All those innocents he’d killed in the name of eliminating demonii infestation. What female in her right mind would want a mate like him?
He exhaled roughly. No, he would do the right thing. Once he killed the demon responsible for hurting Echo, he’d walk away.
Like Týr pointed out, they were warriors and their lives solitary ones.
Aethan glanced around. Where the hell was Blaéz?
He cast his mind out into the night, scanning. His senses alerted him that he wasn’t alone. A few seconds later, the Celt materialized like a ghost several feet from him.
“What’s going on?” Aethan demanded. Right then he didn’t care if the city had been invaded by demoniis .
Blaéz didn’t answer, his eyes cool but searching. If he had a vision or premonition or whatever the hell got his jones going, he gave no sign of it. But those winter pale eyes, almost pearlescent in the night, trailed over him.
“You aren’t hurt,” Blaéz finally spoke.
“No shit.” Why else would he be tracking feet outside the oracle’s house?
“Makes sense now,” Blaéz said. “I saw something. Demoniis— a concealed place.They will take a mortal and you are a part of it. I called you but you’d shut down your telepathic link and didn’t answer your cell.”
Aethan pulled out his cell phone. He stared at the melted lump of plastic and metal in his hand. Another dark reminder of why it could never be. Phones, he could replace, but not Echo.
“Guess that explains why my call went unanswered,” Blaéz said.
“I eliminated the bastards. That’s why you were unable to reach me.” He dropped the melted phone back in his pocket. “But she got hurt. I brought her here.”
Aethan glanced up at the house. Lights shone from the brownstone’s windows despite the late hour.
“She’s strong. Must have incredible shields if they couldn’t bend her mind to theirs and get her to enter the portal.”
Aethan’s eyes narrowed at Blaéz’s comment. For the first time he saw something other than apathy on the Celt’s face. Interest.
The expression wasn’t one he cared for.
“What?” he growled. He might as well have taken out a billboard ad. He couldn’t even control his own possessive responses.
“They will try again,” Blaéz said, still staring at the house.
“Then they’ll have to go through me.”
“She confuses them with her resilient mind.”
“Why are you concerned?”
Blaéz turned. His eyes seemed to smirk in the moonlight. His voice, however, remained cool like the wind snagging their coats. “She’s different. Intriguing. Her destiny entwines with yours, but you’ve already made your decision.”
“Meaning?”
“You weren’t ready to listen yesterday,” Blaéz reminded him. “This path you’ve chosen to travel? Be prepared for the consequences. Later.” Blaéz sauntered off down the street, like a damn apparition.
Aethan should have known better than to ask the Celt anything. His obscure reference was a damn pain in the ass. He took the stairs to the oracle’s house.
At his knock, the door opened to reveal a tall, curvy brunette with hair woven into multiple braids, dressed in jeans and pale green sweater. She had to be the oracle’s granddaughter, Kira. And Echo’s friend.
Her latte-colored skin was blotchy from crying, her red-rimmed hazel eyes widened in surprise when she saw him.
“Lila?” he asked her.
“Gran’s busy,” she sniffed. “You’re gonna have to wait a while.” She brushed at her eyes and stepped aside, letting him into the house.
The strong odor of roots and other musty smelling herbal mixtures wafted to him. “Hold on, what’s wrong—Echo?” His gut clenched in panic and he anxiously scanned upstairs for her. Finding the
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