Tangled Sin (A Dark Realm Novel) (26 page)

“Ask me when I stop hurting,” she grumbled. “I think you’ve broken me.”

“Broken?” His brow lifted, then his gaze went into a slow burn. “Later, I promise to kiss every abused inch and make it all better.”

Her breathing hitched. She knew how good he was at using his mouth.

“C'mon.”

With a sigh, she took his hand, and he drew her to her feet. “I guess that will do for now as a start to your training.”

“Training?” She snorted. “It would have probably hurt less if I was the punching bag.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “
That
was just the warm up, but you can always say no. Then my rule comes into effect.”

“Why didn't you say so in the first place that I had a choice—wait, what rule?” she demanded.

“You cannot go anywhere without one of your brothers or me.”

“Oh, bliss.” She rolled her eyes. “Have annoying babysitters on my back twenty-four-seven or have my body used as a punching bag?” She lifted her hands and balanced them like scales. Wrinkled her nose and dropped her left. “Thanks, I’ll stick with being pounded.”

“It will get rougher, Saia,” he warned, his tone grim. “Those entities will do anything to take over your body, there is no coming back from that.”

“I know.” She stepped away from him, picked up her hoodie from the floor, and winced as she straightened. The cell she’d tossed on the workout bench earlier rang. She stumbled over, picked up her phone, and answered as she flopped down.

“I spoke to Father James.” Her mother got straight to the point. “He’s agreed to forgo the prenuptial classes and has a date the weekend after New Years for the wedding. It’s booked.”

Saia’s fingers tightened around her cell. “Mother, you know what I want.”

“It’s winter, Saia. I can hardly see you marrying outdoors just to have your garden wedding.” She rang off.

This could only mean one thing; Mother thought she’d call off the wedding. That was true, because she generally did the opposite of what her mother asked.

Dammit! So this was her master plan all along? Tossing her phone beside her, she punched the seat in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” Riley crouched in front of her.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

She flexed her sore knuckles. “I told you Mother wouldn’t let this go.”

“What did she say?” he asked, taking her hands and gently rubbing her aching fingers.

“She wants a church wedding—next week.”

His expression became thoughtful. “Yeah…that won’t work.”

“What?”

“Saia, have you forgotten what I am?”

She blinked, confused. “I know what you are, Riley—oh, right. I didn't think about that...” Her mood brightened. There was no need for any wedding, she realized. “You said we’re bonded, so marriage wouldn’t really matter, right?”

“And have your mother accuse me of living in sin with her daughter? I don’t think so. Besides, I clearly recall someone saying ‘
only a wedding ring counts
?’”

She scrunched her nose at his smirk, her face heating at how he’d torturously drawn out her admission of wanting him. “Yes, well, that was before I knew you really wanted me or that you cared.”

“Cared?” His smile died. “That is such an insipid word for what I feel, Saia. Before you, I merely existed. Then, like a gale, you stormed into my life, tossed out every rule I lived by, and calmly took over every space in my heart—you are my
life
—don’t you get that?”

Floored by his words, she lunged for him, her momentum landing him on his butt. His arms came around her as she buried her face in his neck. God, she loved him—she had to try one more time. Easing back on her knees, she met his tender gaze. “Riley,
please
go back to Stygia. I’ll be here when it’s all over.”

Like the flick of a switch, the tenderness vanished. He let her go and rose. Eyes hard now. “Don’t even think of some idiotic plan to save me. I'm not leaving.”

She pushed to her feet. “Christ, Riley, you’re more stubborn than my mother.”

Dark amusement. “Now I feel insulted.”

She really didn't want to go back to Stygia, but she was so afraid for him. With his life on the line, Saia realized then that she’d walk into Hell if she had to. “All right, I’ll come with you.”

He shook his head. “No. During the transference I’ll be contained, you’ll be alone. There are demons who would still come after you, I won't take that chance. Here, at least, I know you’ll be safe with your family if I'm not around.”

She blew out a frustrated breath and accepted his decision. “Okay. But the moment the transference starts, you’ll tell me?”

“Stop worrying, Saia. There is time—”

“Darn, it, Riley, stop telling me to stop worrying! If I was the one in danger and could die, what would you do?”

He stilled, his expression morphing into one so deadly, Saia instantly wished she could recant her words. “That will never happen. Anyone even thinks of touching you, and blood will flow,”—of that she had little doubt—“I will wreak havoc on any world to get you back.”

“Then?” She glared, point made.

“I am immortal, sweetheart. The odds of me surviving are better.”

Gah! He had to point that out. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to
wreak havoc
on the scale he could—heck on any scale—but it didn't mean she wouldn’t do everything in her power to make sure he was safe.

He ran his fingers over his buzzed hair. Frowned. “I have to get to the bar, I’ll see you later.”

He cupped her face in his big palms and kissed her before stalking off.

Damn stubborn demon! Saia glowered at his retreating back, well aware that he hadn't answered her. Fine. But he wasn’t keeping her out of this. She planned to be with him every step of the way during the transference, whether he liked it or not. And she didn't care how dangerous it was.

Later that afternoon, Riley pushed away from his desk and exhaled roughly. Dealing with idiot suppliers on the delayed liquor orders and other stuff had left him irritated to his aching eyeballs.

His eyes burned, his head felt heavy like he’d boozed himself into a stupor. Scrubbing a weary hand down his face, he walked out of the office.

The silence in the closed bar grated on his nerves in a long monotonous drone. Traces of disinfectant and a lemon scent left over from the cleaners irritated his sensitive nose. Slowing down, he glanced around.

Where the hell was Zac?

He made his way behind the bar and shoved open the door into the back office. Zac lay on the leather couch with one hefty arm flung over his eyes, the other dragging on the floor.

Riley leaned against the desk, hands braced on the edge and stared down at the slumbering male. No acrid odor of liquor tainted the air. Not a hangover, then.

“Stop with the eyeballing or I’m gonna think you want a piece of me,” Zac muttered, pissed.

“What’s happening, Z? Your latest woman kick you out?” He had no idea why his friend couldn’t use the head on his shoulders when it came to the females he banged.

“On my ass, right on the sidewalk. I give up with them and their possessive crap. Your ONS deal is my motto. Now, I need my zzzs.”

His one-night stands? That lifestyle seemed like a lifetime ago. Not one he cared to revisit either, even in his mind. Just the thought of how Saia had been hurt had his gut twisting like acid eating him. “Just make sure to clear their memories afterwards or all that shit will follow you here.”

Zac grunted, still didn't look at him.

“I guess you're not interested in the partnership you’ve been hankering after.”

The big male stilled. Then grumbled. “Yeah, go on, fuck with the fallen.”

Riley waited, knew his friend’s brain would switch into gear soon enough.

A second later, Zac’s hand fell from his brow. He shot up from the couch and grinned. “Well, fuck me.”

“You’re gonna wait a helluva long time for me to sway that way. Nope, not even then.”

Zac laughed. “Why now?”

He’d expected the question after refusing to budge over the years with his precious bar.

Zac had no idea what Riley would soon become—like anyone would want to be pals with the Sin of Wrath.

“Things change. I like a little more free time, so yeah. I’ll have the papers drawn up.”

“C’mon, why now—” Zac stopped, gaze narrowed. His nostrils flared as he sniffed. “Well, I’ll be. You’ve mated to that little mortal from a few weeks ago. Nice to know I haven’t lost my instincts.”

“Yeah, you’re a regular cupid.” Straightening, Riley strolled to the window that looked out into a gloomy thoroughfare, sliding his hands into his back pockets, and felt the photo there.

The reason he’d sought out Zac. He had to leave and go find his sister.

How the hell was he supposed to do that when he had no clue where she might be?

He could read minds, not see the damn future. Wrath had been as helpful as a bloody rock in that regards, even though Riley understood why. SoHo. Right.

Hopefully, he meant Manhattan and not London.

“Gotta go.” Riley headed for the door. “I’ll probably be late tonight.”

“Gotcha.” Zac went horizontal on the couch again. “Good thing I now own half of this place.”

Riley barely heard him as he headed out.

***

Dusk sneaked in over the city as Riley took form in the snow-laden backstreet in SoHo. The crisp air barely made an impact on him. The photo was of no help after the rain had ruined it. All that remained was a blurred image of a female with light hair.

Since Wrath had bound his sister’s psychic signature from being sensed, he was like a blind man tracking.

Several hours wasted tramping the streets of New York, irritation charged straight down to pissed off. He stopped in the shadows of a building on Spring Street.

“Riley?”

At that low, lightly accented voice, he turned. Shit. Not now. But hell, he owed the male approaching him his very life. “Guardian.”

Moonlight cast a silvery glimmer on the male’s multi-colored blue-toned hair and gleamed off the small silver hoops in his ears. Clad in a long, black leather trench coat over a crewneck and leathers, the Empyrean looked like any other New Yorker except for his intimidating height, build, and looks.

Aethan slowed to stop beside Riley in the shadows. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Riley shrugged. Made him realize he hadn't bothered to blend in, dressed only in jeans and a tee—the perfect way to draw attention in the icy weather when people bundled up. “Had nothing of import to impart.”

He could feel those gunmetal-gray eyes studying him. “You okay?”

That surprised Riley. Aethan wasn’t one to ask personal questions. “Yeah.” Then Riley realized he had to warn him about the shit that could occur. “There’s something you ought to know; a crack’s forming in the veils of the deepest part of Hell. Gehenna.”

The warrior stilled. “You sure about this?”

As Guardians, they would probably know about those four who’d taken to eternal rest, and the horror that could follow if they awoke.

“Finally made a trip down there. Yeah, I’m sure. Wrath has his army guarding it. Best be prepared for a shitfest if it fractures.”

The warrior’s usually impassive features hardened. He slid his hands in his pockets. Nodded. “Keep me informed, will you?”

“Will do.” As the warrior strode down the street, Riley’s gaze slid from him to The Shamrock Pub. Definitely not his scene with its wholesome goodness, but he needed a damn drink to settle the edginess riding him.

A few minutes later, he entered the packed place. At the bar, a blonde bartender flirted with a customer. She glanced his way, her gaze swept down his body and up again, and she flashed him a full-on, sexy smile.

He dismissed the blatant invitation and headed over to the tables near the windows. A shit-faced drunk crying in his beer looked up with bleary, red-rimmed eyes. “W-why washn’t I good enough for her?”

“Can’t say, man. Sober up and go find out.” Riley willed the human on his way and dropped into the vacated chair, exhaling roughly. His problem was on a far different scale—not his mate, but his damn heritage.

He hadn't told her yet about his sister, knowing Saia, she’d want to help him find her. But it was too risky right now.

“There ya go,” a light, chirpy voice said and handed him a menu.

Riley lifted his head. A moment of sheer surprise snatched his breath. His sire’s lime-green irises merged into the gold ones, smiled at him. She looked nothing like Wrath, or him for that matter. Tall, yes, but her skin was a rich latte, a striking contrast against her honey-blonde hair woven into a million braids, which she’d pulled into a ponytail. She wore the pub’s uniform of short, black skirt, green tee, and a black half-apron.

“So, what will it be—soda, juice, or something stronger?”

He stopped the restless drumming of his fingers on the checkered cloth-covered table. Usually, he was the one asking that question. “I don’t know, surprise me.”

Curious hazel eyes studied him for a second. She smiled and revealed perfect dimples. Nope, definitely not from his sire.

“One surprise coming up then.”

She danced off on her sneakered feet to some kind of music in her head only she must hear. She smiled at the flirty remarks a few guys made and headed for the bar. Riley narrowed his eyes at their lascivious looks and had to reel in his instincts to go all cave-man protective. Hell, she had no idea who he was.

He took in his surrounding instead, really glad this wasn’t one of the sleazier joints. His sister didn’t belong in those dumps. The place had a relaxing atmosphere where food was just as important as drinks. The aroma of burgers and spicy tacos drifted to him.

“There ya go.” A whiskey, neat, appeared beside his hand. He nodded his thanks. “You’ve come to the right place for whatever troubles you,” she said in an easy way that seemed an intrinsic part of her bubbly personality.

Yeah, inheriting a Sin with the archangel breathing down his neck was a pain in the ass. He pushed his dismal thoughts aside, focused on his sister.

Damn, he had a sister! The very thought overwhelmed him. He flat-out refused to draw her into his world like he’d done with Saia. With his mate, he’d known soon after they met that their path was set. He’d let his sister have a chance at a normal life for as long as he could before he tore her world apart with the truth.

“I hope so.” He took a mouthful of the smoky liquor. Shit. That had to peel a layer of his throat.

“I can give ya a moment.”

He set the glass on the table. Cocked a brow. “Most guys would take that statement as an invitation.”

“Oh, they do, but I handle them.” She brushed it away with that easy smile. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“I don’t normally do bars.” He was usually too busy at his own to bother with others. “What are you called?”

Tiny lines formed between her brows at his question.

“Something wrong?”

Her head tipped slightly to the side as she studied him. “No, it’s the way you asked me.”

Shit
. Not,
what are you are called
?
Human speak, dumbass
. After a thousand years here, one would think he’d know that. Being in Stygia seemed to have short-circuited his brain cells.

“But I answer to bar girl,” she quipped. “Waitress, love,
chica
, take your pick.”

Friendly, teasing, guarded. She still hadn’t given him her name. He didn't require one right now, but she would need his to remember him. He’d bring Saia along the next time he came—after he’d taken care of all the crap dogging his boots.

He picked up his glass and sucked back the rest of his fiery liquor, hoping it would ease the tautness in him. “I'm Riley, by the way.”

“So, Riley, what brings you here?”

“What troubles all guys drinking in bars?” he asked and waited to see her reaction. Admiration lit her gaze as she looked him over, but it wasn’t one of sexual interest—thank the gods.

“With your looks, it has to be girl trouble—” Then she smirked. “Or is it a guy?”

He lied. “Girl.”

“You should talk to her. We women like that.”

Yeah, so he was finding out. Warily, he rubbed his neck as the restlessness inside him swelled. He’d ducked Saia’s question about the transference. He was aware she wasn’t going to let him off that easy, not when she’d been on his back about going back to Stygia.

With his brain churning inside his skull, he could barely think straight, felt as if fire ants were crawling over his skin. The meet and greet with his sister over, now he had to get out of here. There was one more thing he needed to know. “You worked here long?”

“Nah.” She laughed. “I work in a bar—Lower East Side. I'm covering for a friend tonight. You want another?”

“No.” He handed her a bill. “Keep the change.”

Her gaze widened. “But this is a hundred dollars.”

“Keep it.” He scanned the customers and stilled. The malevolence in the air turned his blood to ice. Shit. He grabbed the mind of a human some distance away and shoved a thought into his head.

“
Chica
?” the man yelled. “Another round of ale here.”

She flicked those strikingly familiar eyes between the man waving his arm and him. “Gotta go. And thanks.” She tucked the money in her apron and bopped off.

With a bored expression, Riley casually glanced around, scanning for the evil he felt. His gaze collided with an obsidian stare.

Ayperos leaned against the bar counter at the far end, watching him. His dark hair longer than Riley remembered, his eyes so empty it appeared as if an abyss had opened in there.

How in the nine hells had he missed this asshole tailing him?

He had to get out of here, get his head together so he could deal with this fucker before he went after his sister. No, Ayperos wouldn’t, he had no idea who she was. Why waste time with humans who were of no value, ones he couldn’t use to torment Riley. Unlike Saia.

Reining in his anger, Riley left the pub and headed down the street, hoping to draw the bastard out.

In the seedier backstreets of SoHo, Riley waited, leaning against a graffiti wall.

The change in the air rippled across his skin with an icy bite. A faint sob reached him, a woman crying. With preternatural speed, he followed the pained cry and pulled up short.

Blood-demons fed on a human pinned to the greasy wall. Ayperos stood nearby, smirking.

Damn bastard! Riley leaped for him and lashed out, but his hands slipped through air. Chilling laughter echoed in the empty alley.

“Tut, tut, tut.” The wavering image of Ayperos shook his head. “Is that any way to greet me,
brother
?”