Текст книги "Chains of Frost"

Автор книги: T. A. Grey

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Chapter Three

Tyrian’s team had been gone for five hours too long. The commander of the Atal

Warriors did not need to check the time to know that his team should be back by now. Just how bad things had gone, he didn’t know.

Unlike some commanders, he did not require constant communication from his men.

Most of the time their jobs required complete and utter silence. He’d seen good, strong warriors die because a cell phone rang in his pocket. Technology had many uses; some of those endangered his men. It was careless. It was unacceptable.

Tyrian counted on his men to be the best and that meant without supervision. After all, they were not children but the best warriors with an even greater job. And he was not a babysitter.

Yet even knowing all that and having created those rules himself, Tyrian for once wished he knew what the hell was taking them so long.

He sent three men from his personal guard—some of the few he trusted not to cut off his head when he turned around. Rayn, Draven, and Henry. Together they were a lethal tornado capable of executing the strongest of enemies. What made them so unique even among his legion of warriors were their other special abilities.

Born not of two vampires, but of vampire and those they fight against, the demons, they alone had a tremendous advantage over their foes. This only made the fact that their mission had gone on for five hours longer than necessary incredibly...irritating.

Again, Tyrian found his eyes looking down at the sheet of paper in his hands. Frank Bellum was not a man one easily forgot, especially when you owed that man a long-due debt.

His eyes narrowed on a choice set of words: My eldest daughter, Chloe Ann Bellum. Was the old man senile before he met his great death?

Frank had died honorably albeit unexpectedly. Though in Tyrian’s long life that was how most life ended—brief and swift. A hot glide of steel into flesh in one moment and then in the next blink your life was gone. He’d seen it too many times to remember each face, each death.

They all rolled together in his mind like one dark pit of black souls.

A hard bang sounded at the door. “Enter.”

The sight of Rayn was not a relief, but some feeling close to it. Tyrian had learned long ago that feeling led to expectations, hopes, pain. His life was that of a warrior. He had zero need in his life for erstwhile pain and useless emotions that clouded a warrior’s mind.

“Commander Tyrian, I bring news.” Rayn dropped briefly to one knee before standing

again. His shorter hair, Tyrian noted, was a disheveled mess like a child had gotten into it and tried to make a bird’s nest out of it. Something long ago forgotten fluttered in his chest. He pushed it back with cold fingers.

“Speak.” Tyrian pulled his arms behind his back and loosely clasped his hands.

“I’m sorry for the delay but we had...complications.” Tyrian’s brow almost furrowed.

How could one female be trouble? Rayn had slaughtered a den of rogue demons by himself in less than ten minutes. His prowess in battle was why he was one of his closest, most trusted guards. That and his ability to teleport anywhere at any time.

“Tell me everything.”

The story that Rayn went on to tell was completely unbelievable, very ridiculous, and absolutely absurd and yet he said it in the same no-nonsense voice he used in battle. What he spoke was truth, he knew because he wouldn’t dare lie to him. Men had died before for daring such. Knowing all of that though did not make his story any easier to absorb.

Six hours ago Rayn, Henry, and Draven teleported to Frank Bellum’s winter home in

Colorado. Finding it vacant, they then checked his other homes in Maine and Florida. They, too, were deserted, not even a light on in the house. Rayn insisted that the female was not hiding or else Draven would have scented her. Though at the house in Colorado they caught a lingering feminine scent. “Like hazelnut or honey, something sweet” he said. Tyrian merely raised an eyebrow and waited for the rest of the story.

“We tracked her via credit card to London. She bought three tickets, one for herself and each of her sisters. And this is where things got weird.”

“How so?” Tyrian felt a dull throbbing pain slam against his right temple. Was there no way to tell this story faster? The dull pain was a crack in his control. He quieted his mind and stilled the pain like an iron fist over the throb. It stopped like a heartbeat.

“First we stopped at the airport to pick up her scent again, then we followed it to a cemetery where we found a hole in the earth.”

Tyrian cocked his head. “What do you mean a hole in the earth?”

Rayn shook his head and stalked over to a side table where he poured a shot of dark amber liquid and gulped it down with a sigh. “Exactly what I said. There was a massive black hole in the ground. Looked like some kind of pit. It was deep, too.”

“Deeper than a grave?”

“Much.”

“What does this have to do with the female?”

“She and the sister’s scents were all over the place. Whatever happened, and none of us has a clue, it was big and bad. We caught a scent of something else there. Demon.”

Even shocked as he was Tyrian managed to look calmly at the warrior. “Impossible. The demonic rift isn’t anywhere near London.”

“I know. We said the same thing. But that’s only the beginning of it. This thing, whatever it was, didn’t smell like the demon’s we fight. It was similar but reeked of death, age, power. As I said before...weird.”

“Are the women witches?”

“I doubt it. Succubi have some magical ability maybe enough to levitate off the ground or push a person into the wall with enough concentration, but not this. Of course I’m not even sure what it was or what happened neither do Draven and Henry.”

Tyrian contemplated that. “But you’ve got the woman.” A simple statement. His men

would not return without the mission completed unless they were dead.

Rayn shook his head as if he couldn’t believe something then tossed back another shot.

“This is where things get complicated.”

Just then the warrior Draven stormed into the study with a grin on his face. He stopped before Tyrian and dropped to a knee. “Commander Tyrian.”

Frustration threatened to creep in like hot pokers to Tyrian’s brain. “Unless you wish to finish the story then I suggest you leave.”

The warrior smiled like he just said something funny. “I’ll let Rayn finish the story; I just wanted to let you know that King Henry’s bringing her in. I think even you may like this one, Commander.”

Tyrian scowled at the warrior then looked at Rayn expectantly. He quickly wiped the smirk off his face and continued his story.

“We tracked the women’s scents to a small hostel, but before we could go inside to find her we met a friend.”

“From beyond the grave,” Draven added in an ominous voice.

Rayn cut him a hard, half-laughing look. “Whatever the demon was we smelled at the

cemetery was there. We tracked it to the side of the building. We saw it. This thing was huge, much bigger than your typical demon. It was dead. Not dead as in not living. I mean its flesh was peeling off its body, dropping all over the ground.”

“That thing really needs some cologne. Stunk to high heaven.”

“Enough, Draven,” Tyrian commanded with ice covering his words.

“It was after her,” Rayn was saying. “It was outside her window. It attacked us and that damn thing nearly killed Henry. It was powerful, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. Didn’t look anything like the idummi demons we usually fight. Henry took a nasty blow to the stomach, sent him flying a 100 feet into traffic where a car nearly ran him over. So like I said, complicated. This demon was not quiet either. It was loud as a mother—it was loud,

Commander.”

“What he’s trying to say is that by then half the hostel was awake because the demon would not stop roaring and finesse was no longer our strong suit. We saw the woman through the window. It was just her and another. We don’t know where the third sister is. They put up a hell of a fight, even managed a few good blows,” Draven said, rubbing his reddened cheek thoughtfully. “But we knocked her out, got her here ASAP.”

“How did you transport her?” It was not concern he had over the female, simply an

interest in the facts.

“We knocked her out with a tranq and ported her straight here,” Rayn said. The sound of heavy footsteps brought everyone’s attention to the open doorway.

“You guys are dicks.” Both Rayn and Draven broke into grins.

Tyrian’s scowl deepened as he took in the English warrior carrying a loose-limbed

female. He both smelled and saw the sight of Henry’s bloodied stomach.

“How bad is the wound and why isn’t one of you carrying her instead?”

Henry came forward not even breaking a sweat. “Because as I said Commander Tyrian,

they are dicks. Where do you want her?” Tyrian had the urge to step back from the unconscious female, but he fought it and instead took one forward and pointed to the rug in front of the hearth. Henry nodded and deposited her softly on the fur rug. Tyrian wasn’t surprised at Henry’s gentleness; the warrior always did have a weakness for women.

When he stood though, his grimace of pain was not faked. As if forgetting something, he sighed and dropped to one knee. “Commander Tyrian.” He rose with another grimace then sent withering glares to Rayn and Draven as he stalked to a chair.

“Go see Nanu about your wounds.”

There was a tightening around the warrior’s eyes. “The wound isn’t worth troubling her about. It should heal by morning.”

“You will see her now. End of discussion.” Henry gave a clipped nod then spun out of the room on hard steps.

“Which sister is missing?”

Draven shrugged. “Her twin.”

Tyrian cut a look to the bundled heap of woman asleep on his rug. He couldn’t see her face since her back was towards him. All he did see was a massive pile of shiny hair the color of polished wood. For some reason his eyes drew over her body, taking in her shape, and it was then that his eyes narrowed.

“What is she wearing?” When silence ensued, he glared at both of his warriors. He had never experienced such lack of response in all his years with them. He made a mental note to add in extra training time for them—a lot of it.

“It’s a bath towel,” Draven said with a predatory grin that Tyrian hated. In his mind, he saw himself swinging his fist out and connecting it with Draven’s jaw. He shook his head to rid himself of the image. What was wrong with him?

“Was she bathing when you found her?” Why he asked that question, he had no idea. His mind quickly went through all the possibilities of how learning this information could be relevant, but could think of none.

“No, she was asleep, naked. With the demon outside kicking Henry’s ass, we didn’t

exactly have a lot of time to dress her properly and all that. Plus she was feisty when we woke her up.”

“Feisty? She nearly took your head off and that sister of hers was like a demon-possessed woman. I gotta say I’m glad this assignment’s over. Give me murder and mayhem any day, but a couple of angry females you have to be extra careful not to hurt while a giant demon outside is roaring mad—no thanks.”

The female on the floor moaned softly and drew all gazes to her. Tyrian tightened his hands into fists behind his back. Even without seeing her face, he saw that she was too feminine, too soft looking to be here with him, in this castle of death. She made another soft noise then fidgeted on the rug. The action sent the towel slipping precariously down so that one breast was in danger of flashing everyone.

“Get out,” Tyrian said. His guards looked at him in shock then immediately stood, bowed to the waist, and ducked out of the room. The door shut softly behind them.

Tyrian rubbed a hand over his face and immediately regretted the action. Control.

Already he felt himself weakening. The second he started to lose it, he’d be downhill from there.

The female would be a problem. When was a woman not?

He closed his eyes and steeled his thoughts, his emotions, his body. He owed Frank

Bellum a great debt and was finally ready to make good on it, after a thousand years.

But never once in the thousand years did he guess that this would be his payment. A woman. His daughter. A treasured and loved woman now in his tainted, bloodied grasp. What was Frank thinking leaving her to him? And he’d put it in his will a year before he even died.

He’d planned it.

Tyrian stalked to the window and looked out at the moonlight. The moon was a thin

sliver in the sky. Soon the sky would darken with the sight of the new moon. He looked down at the woman on the floor. He saw only a portion of her face, the rest of it covered in a sweep of hair. His attention drew to her lips, soft looking and thin. He yearned to tear his gaze away but that would be a breach in his control, so he forced himself to steadily, slowly lift his eyes from her.

A succubus woman under his protection. It was almost laughable. But as he looked back up at that moon, he knew he would not be laughing come the new moon.

Chapter Four

Henry paused outside the medical ward. He took several deep breaths before he felt ready enough to go in there. Maybe she wouldn’t be in there. Maybe some tech would be there instead or even her asshole brother. Yeah right, he was not that lucky.

Cracking his knuckles, he opened the door and stepped inside. Instantly he saw her. How could he not? She looked up at him from behind her desk. Her eyes lit up and she smiled. It was like being hit in the chest by a truck. The breath he’d been taking just whooshed out of him. Her eyes tracked down over his chest and her smile died. There, at least he could breathe again.

She stood and grabbed her white lab coat from the rack behind her. “What happened?”

Her voice was brisk, efficient, and soft. It also held a trace of her accent that spoke of her Egyptian heritage.

“Just a fight.” She cocked an eyebrow in disbelief at him.

“Take a seat on the table. I’ll need to have a look at it.” He loved the sound of her voice.

The way she spoke rolled her letters together in a way that drove him crazy. As long as she didn’t say his name. He couldn’t seem to keep his dick down when she said his name in that soft, husky voice.

He hopped onto the white hospital bed and barely managed to hide the wince. She

snapped on a pair of latex gloves and came to stand in front of him. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to spread his legs so she had to stand between them. He was definitely a narcissist.

“I’ll need to know what happened, Henry.”

He closed his eyes as a flush of pleasure soared through him. His dick went hard and he didn’t know if it was because she smelled like a mixture of rain and woman, because she stood between his legs, or because she said his name. She said his name like it was something thick and luscious she wanted to roll around in her mouth. No one had ever said his name like that. He was also certain half of what he was thinking right now was bat shit crazy.

“Got into a fight with a demon.” He watched her between lowered lashes as she gently lifted his blood-soaked shirt up to his chest. She didn’t gasp or faint at the ravaged skin of his stomach. She merely assessed the damage with a critical eye. That shouldn’t turn him on but....

Shit.

“This doesn’t look like the usual damage from demons.”

He managed to lift one shoulder in a shrug without grimacing. “It wasn’t a typical

demon. It was something else, bigger, meaner. Not altogether alive looking either. Haven’t seen anything like that before.”

Her golden brown eyes shot up to his. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her, yet he looked right back at her. It was worth the pain. Her skin was a matching shade to her eyes. It reminded him of dark brown sugar. Would you taste as sweet, Nanu?

Her cheeks darkened with color as she stared up at him. She quickly looked back down at the wound and the spell was broken. Can’t say I blame her. Wouldn’t want to look at me either.

“I’ll get this cleaned up. It looks like you’ll need some stitches along this longer gash here.” She stepped back and started gathering a tray of supplies from the counter.

“I don’t want the stitches.” She gave him a startled look.

“Why not? It will leave a nasty scar.” He almost grinned but not because he was happy.

This, this was why he could never have her. She was the beautiful goddess and he the ravaged warrior.

“I am not ashamed of the cut. It will serve as a reminder that I came that close to death.”

Her eyes flickered with some emotion he didn’t recognize and then she nodded.

She gathered what she needed and came back between his legs. She cleaned the wound, which spanned from his chest to his bellybutton, with a liquid that burned his flesh. He kept his face passive. Honestly the pain didn’t hurt nearly as much as being this close to her. He’d give his right arm to get out of here right now.

He must be a glutton for pain though because instead of staring off in some opposite direction of her, he looked at a point above her head so he could see her move from the corner of his eye.

Her movements were methodical, brisk, and thorough. She was done much too fast and

stepped back with a snap of her gloves.

“I’d like to give you something for the pain.” She moved to her medicine cabinet but his voice stopped her.

“Don’t bother.” He hopped off the table and started to pull down his shirt. If she touched him for one more second he wasn’t sure what he might do.

“We are not finished.”

He cut a glance to her. He’d never heard her sound angry. Yup, she was pissed. Her eyes were spitting mad and her lips were pulled into a hard frown. She stormed back to him and pushed him back onto the table. He winced this time but not because of the pain. He could not keep his dick down around this woman. Everything she did turned him on. There was no stopping the image of her climbing on top of him and wrapping her body and mouth around his.

“Lift up your shirt. I’m bandaging it.” He started to protest that it was unnecessary but she cut him a look that shut him the hell up. When she came back to him, she had a roll of white cotton gauze in her hand. He lifted his shirt like a good patient and let her work.

God was it torture.

She started unrolling the gauze at his side and leaned into him as she wrapped her arms around his back then around his chest...again and again. He had to close his eyes or else he might do something stupid like kiss her. Taste her lips and finally find out what they would feel like under his. Soft but firm, he was betting. With just enough give to make him want to sink his teeth into that bottom lip. Would her eyes go soft or hungry?

“All done,” she said softly, startling him out of his perverted reverie. He felt her breath blow across his nipple and his stomach muscles bunched reflexively. He opened his eyes to see hers tracing over his chest in a way that made this whole not kissing her thing very hard. Her eyes lifted to his and he watched as the color in her cheeks bronzed beautifully. Lovely. Golden-skinned goddess.

He swallowed hard. “Thanks for everything.” He stood which, he realized too late, was a bad move because she didn’t step away quickly enough, and his body brushed against hers. Big mistake. The pain from his wound dialed down like it wasn’t even there. All he felt was the gentle heat of her body pressing against his legs and hips.

“Henry,” she said softly, his name rolling off her pretty lips. His chest expanded as he struggled to draw in air. She was a witch, ensnaring him with the deep longing in her eyes. He couldn’t look away, not even as she perched her hands on his shoulders and raised herself up. He was an idiot, but he was going to let her. Was desperate to know, to finally know what she tasted like.

She stopped an inch from his lips. Her breath whispered nervously over his. His hands move to her waist, beneath the open white jacket she wore and gently settled on her. The touch belied the surging white-hot passion that threatened to erupt inside him.

He couldn’t wait anymore. If he died tomorrow then at least he would finally know. He bent down and pressed his lips to hers. The very first touch was electric pleasure zapping through him like a lightning bolt. Immediately he pulled away, stunned and shaking. But she followed him with a soft sound that made his dick weep and his heart quake in his chest.

Her fingers curled into his shoulders in the sweetest of pleasures as her lips pressed over his. The kiss was sweet, innocent. He lost himself in her. He licked open her lips and tasted inside her. His heart kicked up a beat—perfect. She was perfect. Soft and delicate on the inside just like she was on the outside.

“Nanu!”

Henry stumbled back so hard he knocked the hospital table back into the cabinet with a loud crack. He was also certain that he’d just dented the hell out of that table.

He watched wide-eyed as the golden male stepped in front of the goddess, cutting off his connection with Nanu. He tried to ignore her taste still teasing his tongue, but that was impossible.

“You dare to disrespect my sister, warrior?” Her brother, Heru, glared hatred at him.

Henry was shaking his head even as he made for the door.

“Do so again and I will have your head, Commander Tyrian’s guard or not.”

Henry didn’t bother turning around, just kept walking. He was practically running as he reached the end of the wing. Even as he felt her gaze burning into his back, he didn’t turn.