His Darkest Salvation Page 22

  It was a miserable, painful existence but one the man had grown accustomed to.

  For six long months he’d been held captive, tortured beyond what any human would ever be able to endure, and even most who claimed the mantle otherworld. And he would survive. He had to. There was so much left to do.

  The door slid open, and the voice he hated above all others slid into the space, echoing eerily against the iron-infused walls.

  “Well, my old friend, are you going to make me happy today?”

  His eyes opened slowly, the long lashes sweeping upward as black bled into the gold around his irises. He watched, careful to keep all expression from his face, as Cormac O’Hara stepped inside.

  The silver of the man’s hair glistened against the never-ending light from above, and the skin of his face was smooth, free from wrinkles. He looked good, for an old son of a bitch. Cormac smiled then and walked forward to within an inch of his face. O’Hara was so close he could see the tiny blood vessels in his eyes.

  He could smell the depravity that Cormac had ingested for lunch.

  He tensed, though it took great pains to remain still. He was frozen, a macabre marionette with no will of his own other than what was locked deep inside his mind. His arms were spread wide as if they were wings, which was sadly ironic.

  Considering his origin.

  “I am running out of patience, my friend.” O’Hara smiled then, his tone soft, cajoling. “Are you not tired of this game? Tell me where the portal is, and I can end it.”

  His muscles bunched and he gritted his teeth as his mind closed.

  Cormac shook his head. “Very well, Azaiel, let’s dance.”

  The sorcerer raised his hands and grinned wickedly as energy flew from his fingers. It hit the fallen’s flesh and sizzled along his frame in a shower of light.

  There was no sound to be heard other than the scream that ripped through Azaiel’s mind, to echo inside his skull.

  It was the first of many, and they would last for hours to come.

  Chapter 22

  Snow continued to fall though the intensity of the storm had subsided. Julian watched the flakes drift through the night sky, like tiny jewels in the air. He sat alone in the great room located at the back of his brother’s home. The entire wall was glass and allowed him an unobstructed view of Lake Muskoka.

  His first thought was that the compound was vulnerable to attack, being on the water. Jaxon had assured him measures had been taken, and strong protection wards were in place.

  He sighed and stretched back into the leather sofa. To his right, a fireplace burned, casting an arc of heat. He welcomed it, felt his body relax.

  He was finally alone, and the solitude was exactly what he needed. Tomorrow, they headed to Sin City, and he was ready. The crack inside him was getting larger, and he knew there wasn’t much time.

  His brothers had attempted to reconnect with him, but he’d not been interested. He’d tried. The white noise that pounded inside his head had made listening difficult, and he didn’t think he’d been entirely successful in hiding his disinterest.

  After a while, they’d given up and retreated with their women to wherever the hell they slept. Jagger apparently still had the cabin in Jersey and was only here because of the crisis.

  Their attempt at a family reunion had been awkward. He wasn’t going to take it personally. Some things were meant to remain broken.

  Even little Logan had steered clear of him, happy to fool around with Finn and Nico while Julian watched from the sidelines. Jaden had disappeared soon after, and within an hour, he was alone.

  Yeah, he was the life of the fucking party.

  He saw lights twinkling across the lake, small beacons tucked in amongst the thick forest that blanketed the shoreline, and he imagined families grouped together for the holidays. Christmas was still several days away, yet the house looked like a bloody elf had exploded green and red everywhere.

  Decorations filled every nook available, and a magnificent tree glittered in the corner, decorated, and quite thoroughly, with a host of different things, including many that were handmade.

  There was an entire series of jaguars and eagles sprinkled along the branches, and they’d obviously been made by a young hand. It brought a rare smile to his face. Logan.

  His family had always been fractured—his father and mother barely tolerated each other—and he had no real memory of togetherness at holiday time. Long before he walked the earth, the jaguars honored their god of war, Huitzilopochtli, but as time marched on, Christmas had slowly been integrated with their traditions.

  His thoughts strayed back to his family, such as it was. His brothers were worlds away from where he was. They’d both found their mates and were looking forward to a life that included domestic bliss.

  And he, well, he was just trying to get through, to make it to the other side and hopefully save the world while he was at it. His belly tightened at the thought of what still needed to be done. He sank deeper into the leather and closed his eyes as he listened to the quiet.

  It was hard, sometimes, to hear such a thing, to have the quiet become louder than the chaos that lived inside his head. After a while, he adjusted and felt himself relax.

  He must have dozed off and come awake with a start, the smell of her already inside him. He knew she was there. Jaden.

  He sat up and wiped sandman from his eyes, thinking for the first time there’d been no nightmares. No visions of terror.

  “Hey,” she said softly. She was perched on the edge of the sofa, her hair loose and falling over her shoulders like ripples of licorice. Her dark eyes were overlarge in a face that was somber.

  “How long you been here?” he asked sharply.

  Her face changed, the softness disappearing, and she straightened her body. “A couple of hours,” she answered, her eyes staring down at him intently.

  A couple of hours? She’d been watching him for a couple of hours? He didn’t know what to say.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said again as she got up from the sofa and crossed over to the still-twinkling Christmas tree. The wash of color amongst the green glowed in the near-dark room, and he watched as she touched several of the decorations.

  “It’s nice,” she said.

  “It’s pine, I think.”

  She snorted. “The tree is lovely, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

  “What then?”

  “It’s nice that Libby and Jaxon were reunited with their son. That all the pain and shit they went through was worth it.”

  He studied her profile and saw the emotion that was there. Something inside him broke loose, and he nearly stood, so great was his desire to go to her. And yet he held back. Some cold piece of reality had clicked into place and kept him still.

  “I used to love Christmas,” she murmured so quietly he had to strain his ears in order to hear properly. She grabbed a small paper jaguar and studied it closely. “He’s good.” She looked back at him, “Your nephew. An artist in the making.”

  Julian nodded, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. “When did you start hating Christmas?”

  Jaden stilled, her gaze dropping to the floor, and she shrugged her shoulders. “Things changed for my family when I was nine. Something happened to my father.” She turned away from him and walked over to the glass wall and placed her hand upon it as she stared off into the darkness.

  “What?” He was up before he could command his body otherwise and across the room before she took another breath. Their eyes met in the window, her reflection painful to see.

  His hand rose as if to touch her, then, slowly fell back to his sides. She looked away.

  “Jakobi was touched by evil. I have no other explanation. Was it demon? Magick? I don’t know. I can’t pinpoint one moment in time. It was a gradual thing. He became convinced my mother was having an affair, they fought constantly, and in the end, she left.” Jaden slowly shook her head, her voice was tremulous. “Took me with her, and
we went to live with her family.”

  Long moments of silence passed, and he sensed the struggle she was having as she relived her memories.

  “He used to be wonderful; he used to love me,” she whispered. “I know it’s hard to believe after what you saw, but he did.”

  Julian thought of the photo he’d found in her room, she’d looked happy, relaxed, and secure with her family.

  “Sometimes I wish I could grab hold of what I had in the past and fix it. Keep it pure and real, but I’ve realized there are some things that you can’t change.” Their eyes met once more in the window. He saw the anger that was there. “There are things that are unforgivable.”

  He knew the DaCosta history. He was well aware that Jakobi was a bastard of the highest order. What had he done to cause the hatred his daughter held for him?

  “What did he do?” Julian asked as he stepped closer. She turned to him, and his eyes fell to the single tear that slowly weaved its way from the corner of her eye. It glistened like a diamond against her skin and his hand—rising of its own volition—carefully wiped it from her.

  She rested her cheek into his palm, and her own crept up to hold his there. The simple gesture tugged at him.

  Jaden exhaled a ragged breath, and he felt the shudder that swept over her frame. “He murdered my mother.”

  Shocked silence followed her words, and Julian truly had no clue what to do or say. As dysfunctional as his own family was, murder was incomprehensible. This was the stuff of nightmares. “How . . .” He began to speak, but she nodded quickly, and he was quiet.

  “I found her in the jungle, not far from the resort. She’d been shot.” Her eyes swept upward, and he stilled at the pain that lay there. “Her body was left out in the open because he knew I’d find her. Her paw had been cut off, her canines removed.” She was shaking, and Julian pulled her close, not knowing what else to do. The sensation was strange—the need to comfort—yet he welcomed it. It told him that he wasn’t dead inside. Not yet anyway.

  “It was a sign. One meant to scare me back into the fold, to make me into the good girl, the obedient daughter. I’d been living with my mother since they separated. He thought I’d cower and do his bidding.” She laughed harshly. “He was wrong, just as my brothers were.”

  He felt her breath against his neck and became aware that the air had changed. It was charged with an energy that pulled at him hard.

  “Instead, I focused on bringing him and his organization down. They thought I was the perfect doll who only knew one word: yes. They’re fools.”

  He felt the heat of her continue to grow against his skin, and his animal reacted instantly. His flesh became feverish, and his canines ached as his need to claim her rose within.

  “Business deals he lost out on, contracts that were broken, all of it was because of me. He knew someone on the inside was involved in the sabotage, but always looked to his men. Never once did he think to look closer to home, to the daughter who saw her dead mother every time she looked at him.”

  He listened to the frantic beat of her heart, and his own ached at the pain that laced her words. She exhaled shakily, and continued, “Then Father got deeper into the real heavy shit, and my job became harder. His security was unparalleled, and my brothers went crazy with power—all of them, from Degas the oldest down to Tomas the youngest. I couldn’t believe how thoroughly Jakobi’s darkness bled into them. Sometimes I think I could have intervened, done something to influence them, but my brothers lived to please Father.” She looked up at him then, and her voice broke. “Tomas was so young, four years younger than I. He was killed in a raid organized by PATU, after I’d joined forces with them. That is something I must live with.”

  Julian held her and whispered near her ear, “We can only do so much with family. In the end, our siblings will choose their own paths. You must know there’s nothing you could have done.”

  Jaden hung her head. “I’d already assembled a team of sorts, men and women who shared the same goals as I, when I was contacted by PATU. I jumped at the chance to work with them. It was the perfect opportunity to get the job done and have all the added resources I’d need. That’s what I was doing that night . . .”

  He was breathing heavily and barely heard her words. “That night?”

  “The night we met.” She pulled away from him and stared up into his eyes. A long strand of hair tickled its way across her face, and she blew it away impatiently. She looked earnest, her brows furled in concentration, and he fought the urge to touch her sweetly. To sweep the hair from her face and kiss her lips.

  “I didn’t seduce you, Julian. I had no clue you were a Castille. I’d been sent to The Grand Hacienda to meet with a contact.” She paused, and his eyes flew open at the catch in her voice. “I should have left instead of staying for that last drink. Something kept me there. Fate? I don’t know; you were a complication I so did not want.”

  “I pulled you away from the bar,” he said huskily, his eyes fixed on her lips.

  Her tongue darted out, and he watched, fascinated, as it swept across the plump redness, leaving a sheen of moisture in its wake.

  “Onto the dance floor,” she finished, and smiled, poking him in the chest. “You moved with such grace, your energy was unique. I knew right away”—she paused, and the way her breath caught in her throat made him ache—“that you were shifter,” she whispered.

  His hands crept up to her shoulders, and he pulled her into the crook of his arms. There was no resistance, and he groaned softly as her body slid against him.

  Slowly, they moved together. There was no music, no sound except the breaths that fell from their lips. He had no idea what was going on in Jaden’s head, but in his mind’s eye, he was back at The Grand Hacienda, the air was flush with the Caribbean, and heat was all around them.

  He felt his cock swell and shifted his body in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort, but all it did was spread a host of sensations along nerve endings that left his skin on fire. His body was suddenly tense with need.

  Her arms went around his waist, and when she ground herself against him, it felt as if he were coming apart. “I wanted you so badly that night. I don’t give a damn what you remember, it wasn’t just me. You felt the same way, and I thought . . .” Her whispered words echoed into the quiet.

  “What did you think?” he asked.

  Her gaze swept upward, and, for several long moments, they stared at each other in silence. After a bit, she moistened her lips, and spoke. “I knew you were a shifter, I could sense it, and I’d never felt such a connection before. My jaguar wanted you in a way that hurt.”

  “Why did I not recognize you as such?”

  “I wear a cloaking charm when on assignment.” She looked away. “It’s not always stable in times of great . . . emotion. It slipped from me the moment I claimed you.”

  Julian stilled at her words. The raw honesty that he sensed grabbed the little bit of his soul that still existed. Her pain was huge, and he felt every bit of it.

  He asked the question that he wanted most answered. “Why did you claim me as your mate?”

  She bit her lip, and he could see her confusion, her pain. “I’ve thought about it a lot. Why would I screw with my future and mate with a man I knew nothing about?” Her eyes widened. “I don’t have an answer other than it felt right. In that moment, I knew you were the one to complete me. It was like I had no control. I was weak and let my body lead me down a path that has been filled with nothing but pain. When you saw what I was.” She bowed her head, and he felt her shame as her voice dropped to just above a whisper, “When you rejected me . . . I can’t even describe how that made me feel.”

  Julian didn’t know what to say. Everything was true. All of it. That night . . . he’d had the best sex of his life, several times over in fact. Something about her had been different; he was a fool not to have noticed earlier.

  For the longest time, he’d avoided anything that was otherworld, especially the
shifters. He was a refined CEO of a major conglomerate known the world over, and a shapeshifting jaguar had no place in that world. Not with him, anyway.

  It spoke to a heritage he had no interest in, a legacy he would never claim.

  Julian grimaced. Fuck, Mr. Cosmic Mojo had kicked his ass thoroughly.

  He remembered coming down from the heady release of an overwhelming orgasm and knowing that something had changed. He’d seen the air move around her body, shimmering as it played along the soft golden skin that he’d just tasted. Her eyes glowed, and he’d sensed the animal that lay just beneath her flesh.

  She was wild, untamed, and, to his horror, represented everything he did not want to recognize in himself.

  Julian groaned and closed his eyes, wishing the memories would fade. He still saw the hurt and disbelief in her eyes when he’d tossed ten one-hundred-dollar bills onto the bed and asked that she leave immediately.

  That was the last time he’d seen Jaden until that night in Belize before the portal had gone AWOL, along with him.

  She exhaled raggedly. “I watched you from afar like a pathetic loser. I knew your every move, who you slept with, who you dated.”

  She turned to him, and the silence in the room fell heavy on his ears. Her eyes glittered dangerously, and he saw her shame. What it cost her to confess to him.

  “It killed me because you belonged to me even though you had no clue. I was the one-night stand of regret. A mistake to forget about. A dirty shifter.” She shrugged and ran her hands through the long bands of hair that fell about her shoulders. “And here we are, and everything still sucks.”

  “I am one dumb-ass son of a bitch.”

  “Yeah, you are.” He sensed her anger, mingled with pain, and realized that he felt the same.

  He shook his head. “I have no words, Jaden, other than sorry.” He pushed her away. “It’s too late to make things right. I would if I could.”