Dark before dawn the pro.., p.25
Dark Before Dawn (The Protector Guild Book 7), page 25
Serae pushed a stray lock of my hair behind my ears, the sensation of her touch sending a relaxed tremor down my head. “You’ve all been through a lot, it is not expected that you will all come out of it as you were. Wade needs time to process, to heal. He’s accepted his incubus nature, but that doesn’t mean that he’s found where he fits in the world he once inhabited. There has always been a darkness in him, one I think he assumed came from his demonic nature. I think he’s probably only just realizing that it’s a darkness harbored and nurtured by his father. That man,” her eyes hardened as they met mine, “he represents everything wrong with The Guild—power hungry, selfish, rotten to the core.”
“You knew Tarren?”
“Of him,” she said, leaning back into the couch. She arched a thin, perfectly-shaped brow. “My sister spoke of him in a dream-walk with me once. He was beautiful, and she glowed under his attention, but she knew what he was.”
“Why did she—” I shook my head, “sorry, that’s not my place to ask, to judge.”
“Why did she fuck him?” Serae didn’t mince words. She grinned at the surprise on my face. “She gave her life to the cause. Lucifer needed a way into The Guild, needed to infiltrate, to get information—my sister carved a path. Once she set her eyes on someone, they didn’t stand a chance. Tarren fell for her instantly.” Serae shook her head, lost in a memory. “She was a hell of a woman. I think she probably fell for him a little bit too. Power attracts power.” Her eyes darted to mine. “But a baby wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Tarren had no idea she was a succubus,” I said, trying to remember what I knew of her, what I’d heard. “Thought she was a human.”
A bright smile spread across her face, making her look even more stunning than she usually did. The joy spread across her skin, dancing as it laced her eyes. “Bet he hated how hard he fell. Would’ve loved to be there the moment he realized the truth—that she wielded more power than he ever would in her pinky finger.” The joy melted into something softer, something sadder. “Anyway, I’m sorry that Wade was lost to me for so many years. We had no idea he was alive, that he existed. I only knew that she was gone.”
“I’m sorry.” I reached for her hand, squeezing it, finding my own grief echoed in hers when her eyes met mine.
She tilted her head, studying me as the wave of pain pulsed between us. Her free hand cupped my cheek as she nodded. “Yes, I believe that you are. Your pain won’t always consume you, my girl. Neither will Wade’s. You’ll both find your way through it, to each other. Don’t let yourselves pull back from the intimacy of it—there is great power in vulnerability, in trusting someone to share the burden you cannot carry alone. Our kind, that kind of connection can infuse us with a beautiful power if we allow it to—if we don’t let it destroy us. Now,” she cleared her throat, and patted my thigh. “You did not come here to learn about our family or discuss my nephew. Why don’t you practice here and now, unburden yourself with me. Ask what you came to ask?”
“How did you—” but the question evaporated with a look from Serae. It had long become clear that she could see and sense things that most could not. “Right. I was dream-walking to my other—” I dropped my eyes, guilt flaring through me, “I, um, Wade isn’t the only one I’m bonded to.”
Soft fingers lifted my chin until all I saw was the powerful confidence in her gaze. “Do not apologize for your connections. Humans have long expected a single relationship to do and accomplish everything they need, everything they crave. We know different. Connections, life bonds, like the ones you are forging—that is the most sacred power that we can tap. It demands trust, openness, an unflinching vulnerability most would run away from. Don’t you.”
I nodded, sat up straighter, tried to let her confidence, her wisdom, flow through my bones. “Right. Well, I was dream-walking to Atlas, Wade’s brother. But there was this darkness manipulating the dreamscape, manipulating him. All that I felt was pain. It was so much stronger than me, and I could feel it draining him, draining me, even in the brief moments that I could push through to him before I was shoved out.”
Serae’s hands dropped to her lap, her jawline sharpening as she took in my words. It suddenly felt like the easy, languid peace of the dreamscape had been forfeited for a darkness, a creeping anxiety.
The careful warmth of the room seemed to darken, and I felt a chill raise the hairs on my arms.
Was that coming from her or was I just imagining it?
For a long time, Serae sat still, staring into the distance, frozen. Finally, she turned to me. “A nightmare.” She shook her head, a sadness carving her features into a shape I hadn’t seen before, but one no less beautiful than the other. “There is no defeating them, especially if it is not you it seeks. It’s a battle between them. Nightmares are stronger than us. Creatures that feed on fear, that prey on a person’s weaknesses—they will always win against our particular strengths. You will have a rough road ahead of you in saving him—I do not envy the many obstacles that litter your path. But the only thing you can do is get him away from the nightmare, remove its access to him. They require physical proximity to do their worst damage. And then hope that your connection will nurture his way back to you.”
The silence stretched thick between us before she shot me a sympathetic look that made my stomach cramp with dread.
“Truthfully, girl, I have not encountered a true nightmare myself, but from what the stories say—you should prepare yourself for the possibility that death may be the kindest gift you can give him.”
17
DARIUS
“How the hell do you know Bishop?” Wade asked. He was still holding Seamus, cradling him like a bride on her wedding day. If, you know, the bride also happened to be half dead on her wedding day.
I sighed, the deep breath plunging the tip of Bishop’s blade into my skin.
Well, this was absolutely going to turn into the clusterfuck from hell I’d been afraid it would since the moment the incubus mentioned Dani’s asinine plan.
Sure, let’s go visit the small, secluded resort I terrorized years ago. The visit that eventually led to my being made into a lab rat, poked and prodded by The Guild’s finest evil scientists. Because of fucking course.
I wasn’t too worried about being the one who’d have to break the history down for everyone though, since it was taking all of my focus not to rip Bishop’s blade from where it pressed threateningly against my sternum and bury it deep into his abdomen. Fucking prick. He clearly hadn’t changed.
Let the record show that I was being the evolved, cordial one in the scenario. Hadn’t flashed fang, hadn’t threatened decapitation. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d even said hello.
Protectors were fucking animals sometimes.
I would rise above this. One of the magazines Declan left me in the hotel had a whole article about affirmations, and mantras, and all that other new age shit that humans liked to pretend was actual magic. I couldn’t blame them, living in a world of chaos and chance was a lot scarier than believing in something.
It was worth a shot. I had ten of them running on repeat in my head.
Affirmation 1: Don’t kill Bishop…yet.
Affirmation 2: Actually, make that never. Max would probably be upset if I killed Bishop.
Affirmation 3: Do whatever you can to not upset Max.
Affirmation 4: There’s a chance I’d have to kill more people here when they tried to avenge Bishop’s death. Max hates it when people die.
Affirmation 5: Repeat Affirmation 3.
Affirmation 6: He was hardly a worthy adversary, killing him wouldn’t be any fun.
Affirmation 7: His blood probably isn’t even that good.
Affirmation 8: You’re a strong, disturbingly good-looking vampire. You can do hard things—like not decapitate upon introduction.
Affirmation 9: If I killed Bishop now, then they probably wouldn’t help us with Seamus, food, and places to sleep tonight—and it would be nice to have those things.
Affirmation 10: Oh, they’ve really built this place out since the last time I was here. Looks nice. I should get their contractor. Build Max something like this once the apocalypse settles down.
“Bishop?” Declan’s face peered in the gap between mine and the easy-to-anger protector-with-a-blade, scattering my mental flow. “How the hell are you alive? You, um, died,” her eyes narrowed, surprise bleeding into focus, “like four—five years ago?”
“For fuck’s sake, Bishop, let him go.” A familiar woman charged at us, her thin fingers peeling the aggressive protector away from me. The man clearly hadn’t changed in our years apart—all brawn, no brains, ready to jump into a battle he’d certainly lose. “I was afraid this was going to happen,” she muttered to herself, “was warming up to explaining everything to him, but I wasn’t expecting you for a few hours and things sort of got away from me. Been chaotic the past few months, as I’m sure you could imagine.” Her dark eyes cut to me as she nodded, lips curling in a small, tentative smile. “Welcome back, D.”
“Charlie.” I grinned down at the pretty brunette. She was still as radiant as ever—light, golden-brown skin, a toned but curvy build, and dark eyes that saw and understood far more than she let on.
Those very eyes settled on mine, sparkling with a half-assed, teasing apology for her—judging by the surprisingly well-selected ring on her hand—rude husband. That look reminded me so much of Max that I wanted to hug her.
Gods, I hoped Max was okay.
“Explain.” Declan had unconsciously positioned herself between me and Bishop, her eyes widening with the realization as she took a step to the side to give me some space. I ignored the bubbling warmth in my gut at the thought of her protecting me. “Please. What the fuck is going on? Bishop, how the hell are you alive? And where is Dani? Why did she tell everyone you were dead, when you are very clearly not? Why the fuck wouldn’t she have given us a little heads up before we got here?”
“Before we get into all of this, can we maybe get a medic—Dani mentioned you had one.” Wade shrugged his shoulders, lifting Seamus into clear sight. “He doesn’t have time for bickering, battles, or explanations.”
Bickering, Battles, and Explanations—I’d read that book. Or at least the sparknotes version of it.
Bishop’s shoulders dropped, the anger that crafted tense lines around his mouth loosening. “Is that Seamus?” With a quick glance between me and Charlie, he took a few steps towards the man, his fingers gentle, assessing, as he peeled back Seamus’s fluttering eyelids. His jaw clenched as he studied him. “What the hell is wrong with him? Is he in—fuck was he bitten?”
“They’re expecting him in the hospital wing.” Charlie stared at Bishop, her voice brokering no argument. “Why don’t you help—” she narrowed her eyes in question at Wade, before he gave her his name, “Wade—nice to meet you, I’m Charlie, Bishop’s wife—get him to Greta and the others.”
I smiled. Greta was here? Max would be pleased.
Bishop’s jaw clenched as his eyes darted from me to the fiery woman next to me. “There’s no fucking way I’m leaving you with—”
“There absolutely is a fucking way. Go.” Charlie was several inches shorter than her husband, and significantly less muscular, but that didn’t mean she didn’t pack power into her presence. The harsh take-no-shit attitude dipped into a small, private look to Bishop. “I promise I’ll be fine.”
“If it helps,” I added, ignoring the man’s death glare, “I could’ve killed her years ago if I really wanted her dead. And—” I pointed to her with a flourish, “she’s clearly alive and—” I winked at her, my grin growing at the growl that earned from Bishop, “flourishing.”
“I’ll go with you guys,” Rowan said, gently nodding towards Wade and his heavy cargo.
Bishop nodded, and I sent a silent thank you to Max’s brother. Leaving Charlie with too many people he didn’t know was only going to make the man act more like a neanderthal. He’d trust her survival better if it was just me.
“Explain.” And Declan.
But everyone loved Declan.
“I’ve been here before.” I shrugged, crossing my fingers in my pocket and hoping that she’d leave it at that.
The emerald fire in her eyes made it abundantly clear that hope would not become a reality.
“Dani told everyone that Bishop was dead many years ago,” Charlie said, her voice calm and soothing as she studied me. “He wanted to leave The Guild, to stay here with me. And so they fabricated his death so that he could.”
“Convenient,” Declan said with a snort, but there was no malice in her eyes, just a little fraction of hurt. Grief was painful. And for whatever reason, she’d clearly experienced some with Bishop’s fake death. “And Darius—how do you know him?”
“I attacked her, and then Dani captured me,” I added helpfully, dodging Declan’s elbow as it came bobbing at my stomach.
Charlie’s hand swept to her neck, her fingers unconsciously tracing what was now a very small scar.
From me.
“Sorry about that,” I said, surprising myself that I actually meant it. “You met me at a dark time in my life.”
“Have you had a non-dark time in your life?” Declan asked.
“If you can believe it, I was even more fun back then,” I shrugged, “if more murderous.”
Charlie’s eyes narrowed, again reminding me so much of Max that I half wondered if the resemblance was what had drawn me to this woman so many years ago. Sure, I tried to eat her, but even then, something about her fire had kept me from wanting to murder her. I’d had plans to turn her into a blood bag, sure, but a reusable one that I kept sparkly, clean, and happy. There was something very calming about her presence that drew me in. “You also saved me. So while, yes, you are an asshole for biting me, I’ve long forgiven you for it.”
Ah right. Charlie had nearly died. I saved her—because, even then I had the rumblings of good-guy energy. But I’d forfeited my own freedom, letting Dani take me down in the process.
“And,” she scrunched her nose, “I guess in a weird way, I wouldn’t have my family if your trail of bodies hadn’t brought Bishop here.”
“You’re welcome.” I fingered the hole in my shirt that Bishop’s blade had punctured. “But I do want to go on the record and say that I think you could do a lot better than him.” I turned back to her, pleased with the reluctant amusement on her face. “Why did Dani send us here?” I studied the large, looming building before us. My memory wasn’t perfect, especially because the last time I’d been here, I’d been letting the darkness more or less control me, but this building alone looked two or three times the size I’d remembered it. And there were dozens scattered throughout the clearing. “This place has changed a lot.”
Charlie reached a hand out to Declan. “I’m Charlie by the way, Dani’s told me a lot about you. She was really excited to report that you’d be joining us.”
Declan considered the woman for a moment and then nodded, clasping Charlie’s hand in hers.
“And as for why this place?” A soft smile lifted Charlie’s lips as she opened the door for us and ushered us in. The restaurant I’d once met Charlie in was significantly larger than it had been last time—chairs, tables, booths scattered around a large room with a huge bar in the center. It still had the same homey warmth that it had back then, just with some major updates and extra space. “It’s gotten a bit of an upgrade. The whole resort has, actually. We’ve added some extra buildings. Bishop and the others have been working tirelessly to make sure that we have enough space. And we’ve been keeping the books full—and removed most of our online presence—so that humans don’t accidentally wander to our land anymore, hoping for a quiet vacation.”
Curious stares met us from the scattered people working through their lunches. But when they saw Charlie’s ease, the immediate tension seemed to release from them like dominoes.
“Enough space for what?” I asked, not bothering to hide my impressed perusal of the place. Bishop was a bit of a meathead, but the guy had done some really nice work with this place. Charlie deserved it. Even if I still didn’t think that Bishop deserved her.
A fierceness flashed through her expression as she turned back to me, her mouth pressed into a grin that was as terrifying as it was pleased. “The Defiance.”
“The what?” Declan sat on the stool Charlie pointed to, and I took the one next to her.
“Mer came up with the name.” Charlie snorted. “Bit dramatic if you ask me, but she’s used it enough that it’s just sort of—” she tilted her head, nose scrunching, “stuck. Anyway, lunch service is ending, but I’ve got some leftover chicken pot-pie if that’ll do for you both?” Without waiting for confirmation or further explanation, Charlie ducked to the back of the room, disappearing behind some saloon-style doors into what led to, I was sure, a much nicer kitchen area than the one I’d been in years ago.
“Well this is—” Declan shook her head as she took in the room. “Unexpected.”
