West (A Darkness Series Novel) Page 8

  “Yes, I—”

  “No, you didn’t...not enough.” Her eyes filled with liquid, crushing my heart. She dropped her face into her hands, her body rocking with sobs.

  My feet took me close to her, and I gripped her wrists. “Cammie,” I uttered softly. “Look at me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Please.” I gripped her arm firmer. “Look. At. Me.”

  Her head snapped up.

  “Holy—” I gasped, stumbling back on my ass as terror clipped at my veins, cutting off my oxygen. The beach morphed into Aneira’s chambers. The many hours she had tortured me inside these same walls came flooding back.

  “What, my pet? Not happy to see me?” Aneira’s violet eyes tore through my flesh into my soul.

  “Not you,” I choked out.

  “I’ve missed you.” Her beautiful but cruel features pinned me in place. The chains and torture devices hung behind her, curling bile up my throat. “We had such good times together, didn’t we? That’s why it would have never worked with that little naïve child. She could have never fulfilled you. Only I can.”

  “No.”

  “Oh, I think we both know it’s true.” She cackled, grabbed a collar with spikes, and walked toward me. “I think you grew fond of this.”

  Oh gods. “No!” I bellowed, trying to scramble away, but my body wouldn’t obey. “Nooooo!”

  Everything started to spin, going dark. Only Aneira’s mocking laugh echoed in my ears.

  ***

  “West, wake up!” The voice belonged to neither Aneira nor Cammie, and it dragged me to the surface.

  My eyes surged opened, confusion clogging my mind as my gaze rolled over the person above me. Dark hair and eyes gleamed down on me, the moonlight etching a beautiful face. I was in the dark room with paintings of the sea hanging on the walls.

  Rez. Cahersiveen. My brain latched on to the familiar things, understanding this was real. I was no longer in Aneira’s chamber. My body still didn’t realize it and shook with the memories, while sweat trailed down the side of my face. It had felt so real I couldn’t quite let go of the torture. The humiliation. The disturbing way Cammie morphed into Aneira.

  “Hey.” Rez’s finger brushed the hair off my forehead, quieting my pounding heart. “You’re all right. You’re safe.”

  I licked my lips, my throat struggling to make words. My attention moved over the room, making sure this was all real. Something lumpy and scratchy dug into my back, anchoring me to earth. I was no longer in my bed, but lying on the floor, as if I were moving toward the door.

  “West?” Rez’s voice drew me back to her, and it was like a cord, finally breaking me from my nightmares.

  Then it was like entering another tortuous dream, but this one was the good kind. Rez kneeled over me, her silky pajama tank top hung low and displayed the top curve of her bare breasts. My body couldn’t help but respond.

  And I slept naked…

  Shit.

  The impulse to reach up and drive my hand through her hair, grabbing her neck and pulling her to me, felt overwhelming. I imagined kissing her lips then slowly moving down her neck till I reached those lovely creatures. I sat up so fast she fell back on her heels. I clambered onto my feet, turning away from her. I grabbed the boxer briefs from the chair and pulled them on. I kept my back to her, scrubbing my face.

  I could feel her wanting to say something. It hung in the air like a clothesline. My soul was so soiled it could never be clean, no matter how many times you washed it.

  “I appreciate you coming in here, but you can go back to bed now,” I muttered.

  Rez rose from the floor, but she didn’t retreat to her room.

  Dammit. This was not something I wanted to talk about. She was supposed to stay on the other side, the flirty but safe side. She already breached that wall this morning, and I wanted to keep her from trying to cross it again. Discussing what tormented me, what could make me shake like one of those small dogs, was deep into territory I hadn’t gone with anyone in a long time.

  I glanced over my shoulder at her. She stood with a look of determination set on her face. A rumble curled up my chest.

  “Bark. Snap. Yell. Even hit me…I don’t care. I’m not leaving till you talk to me.”

  I swung around, shock jerking my shoulders back.

  “You think I would ever hit you?”

  “You wouldn’t be the first.” She folded her arms.

  I blinked several times, a roar of anger flaring up my spine. “Has he ever hit you?” My feet moved to her without my consent. “Has Lars ever struck you?”

  “No. No, he would never.” She shook her head. “Lars has been nothing but kind to me.”

  “Then who?” The raging fury sparked through me at the thought of anyone hurting her. My lungs clenched and my muscles constricted with need to find the fucker. “Tell me!”

  Her neck inched back, looking at me, her gaze challenging. “Tell me about who is terrorizing you.”

  “What is this?” I huffed. “I show you mine, you show me yours?”

  “You scream out her name.” She bit down on her lip. She didn’t have to say who. Aneira had forced me to cry out her name, taking a piece of my soul every time. “You did it on the plane too. You look like you are being tortured, fighting against ghosts.”

  I took a huge step back, gulping for air. Oh no, this was not something I was going to talk about. Not to anyone and certainly not to her.

  “Good night, Rez,” my voice sounded void of emotion.

  “What did she do to you?” she asked quietly, her hands rubbing her arms. She wasn’t simply asking about the prison. The forever marks on my neck told the story. She meant beyond that.

  I gritted my jaw. “I said good night.”

  She stood there, her gaze unwavering.

  “Fuck,” I growled, spinning around, needing to get away from her intrusive stare. “Just go! I’m not discussing this, especially with you.”

  “Why especially me?”

  Rotating around, incense latched on to my shoulders. My defense boiled up. My conflicting feelings of wanting to throw her out of my room or throw her on my bed and fuck her till all my pain and anger was gone scared the shit out of me.

  “Because I don’t need to rehash what happened and to relive it over and over. I want to forget.” My words fired from my lips like cannonballs. My pain only wanted to afflict someone else. “You are not my therapist, my family, or even my friend…” Rez took a sharp breath at my words. “You’re simply the King’s tart I have to deal with on this mission because he said so. That’s it. Nothing more. Got it?”

  She didn’t pull back or even get teary. She stared at me, the life in her eyes dying away till all I saw was a cold, empty night in her dark irises.

  “Good night, Mr. Moseley.” Her voice sounded void of emotion. She turned her back to me and walked through our joint door. I was ready for it to slam, at least then I’d feel the anger I deserved. But it closed with a soft click, and it was like an arrow straight to my chest.

  My legs collapsed, and I fell into the chair, my face in my palms. The agony I felt earlier only intensified. I hadn’t meant to lash out at her, to be such an asshole. But what did she think? I would tell her my deepest, darkest secrets? We needed to keep this relationship clear cut and squarely in the lines of working together for a common goal. Nothing more.

  I still couldn’t stop my gaze from returning to the closed door between us. I felt a need to pound on the door and beg for her to forgive me. To wrap her in my arms and feel her heart against mine. My fingers raked over my face. The last time I held someone merely to feel their heartbeat was the day my world crumbled around me.

  I bolted up. What the hell was wrong with me? Only a few days earlier it seemed easy to stuff the siren in her box and tape the lid. West, get the fuck a hold of yourself. Get that shit locked up. I grabbed a pair of pants and a T-shirt out of my duffle bag, dressed quickly, and I took off out the door.


  The freezing night’s air stung my lungs the moment I breached the doors. The smell of salt water lay on my tongue, and goosebumps streamed up my arms. It helped clear my mind. My feet started to move. The need for the beast to come out and dive into the night cranked my legs faster. I ran, trying to escape the devils nipping at my heels.

  When I returned, physically drained, I felt only slightly calmer. The sun was crowning the sleepy village. My eyes were aching with the need to close, but the things waiting for me behind my lids kept them open. I jumped into the shower, leaving it on the chillier side to help me wake up, then headed to a bakery. The lady barely turned the open sign over before I was in, pointing at pastries.

  I still felt right about keeping Rez and my relationship purely on the appropriate side, but I had gone way too far. I acted like a complete bastard, and she hadn’t deserved it. I hoped a peace offering of coffee and croissants would help ease the awkwardness.

  Balancing the coffees and paper bag between my hands, I was almost at the hotel when the sensation of fingers glided up the back of my neck. I twisted and peeked around me. The streets of Cahersiveen were quiet. Only a few local fishermen passed, heading out to catch dinner for the restaurants.

  The tingling grew, but I didn’t stop moving. If someone watched me, I wanted to appear unaware. Sucking in air, I tasted all the smells near me: last night’s dinners in the alley, salt, seaweed, musty smells of the constant fog and rain. And humans.

  I rubbed my nose with my arm, using it to look around again. That’s when I saw him. A tiny gray-haired man, probably only a little over five foot tall and small boned. He wore a newsboy cap, gray pants, a green sweater vest, and a gray sports coat with leather patches on the elbows. He was human, but he was aware of me. Unafraid but cautious. He leaned out of a passageway, his eyes boring into me. His hand lifted, and he motioned me over.

  I casually walked over to him, on guard but curious. As I neared him, he fled deeper into the alley, hiding behind a dumpster smelling of spoiled food. At least the cold and the constant barrage of wind eased the smell.

  “I heard you were looking for me.” The man’s voice was nasally, his Irish accent forcing me to be more attentive.

  “I’m sorry? Who are you?”

  “Seamus said you were looking for me.” He nervously bobbed on his feet, peering out to the street.

  Seamus, the bartender from last night. “He told me the guy I’m looking for was dead.” This guy’s nervousness was rubbing off on me, making me jittery.

  “I am. If they catch me. To the world I am dead. Seamus is the only one who knows.”

  “If who catches you?”

  “I don’t know who they are. They come in like the fog and disappear before anyone notices. Anyone who knows anything about the spear has turned up dead. I didn’t want to be next. I killed myself off first. Went into hiding.”

  “How do you know I’m not one of them?”

  He snorted. “Didn’t you hear me, sonny? They are invisible. Silent. You came clopping in with your shiny car and gorgeous lady friend, practically screaming my name in the streets.”

  I think I was slightly offended. Dark Dwellers were known for their stealth. But in human form, we didn’t go unnoticed as well as we hoped. My clan drew a lot of attention, especially from the women. Not that I hadn’t been hit on by men more times than I cared to count, but women were a lot less subtle about it. Being fae, our looks were part of our hunting equipment.

  Rez and I might as well have come in on a float.

  “What do you know about the spear?” Now I glanced over my shoulder neurotically, the taste of excitement at this first break swirling in my body.

  “Not much, but it doesn’t seem to matter how little. They are out to silence us,” he jabbered. “I shouldn’t even be here—”

  I cut him off. “Then get to it, Grandpa.”

  He pressed his lips together. “I’m only telling you because I’m afraid they will find me. Then it will die with me. Plus, I need the money to stay hidden.”

  So this was all about money. I didn’t care since it was Lars’s money. I growled impatiently for him to continue.

  “Okay, okay.” He held up his hands. “The story is my great-great-great-athair crionna was a crew member of the ship supposedly holding the treasure.” I knew enough Gaelic to remember the term translated to old father or grandfather. “There were only rumors and hushed whispers, but one night Da got drunk and told me the story of the spear and how my athair crionna was on board. The whole crew was killed for trying to take it away from its home.”

  “Story?” Great. Some passed-down, elaborated tale with dubious origins.

  “It’s the truth.” His ears and nose turned red, showing his Irish ancestry.

  “Sure.” I shifted the cups in my hands. “So did dear ol’ Da happen to tell you where this ship left?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “The ship documents are long since lost, and I know little about my ancestor.”

  “How is this helping me?”

  “Because my family origins put me at risk.”

  “They’d really kill you because of your family’s history?” I snorted.

  “Yes.” He nodded fervently. “Because my family was the famous O’Brien Clan, who dominated the coast around Lahinch. There were only a few ports back then around that area.” He took a shaky breath. “You are looking in the wrong place.”

  With this new information, I moved quickly back to the hotel. I didn’t even think as I ran through my room, setting down the coffee, and burst through the door Rez and I shared.

  I should have knocked.

  My feet went still, my brain emptying of anything but the view in front of me. Rez, with her back to me, staring out the window, toweling off her wet hair...naked. My gaze followed every curve of her body, from her feet to her ass, hips, back, to the one breast I could see from here as she lifted her arms to her hair.

  “West!” she yelped, jarring me from my trance. She draped the towel in her hand around her torso and swung around to face me. “What are you doing?”

  “Uh.” What the hell was I here for again?

  Her lids constricted the longer my mouth came out with nothing. “Mr. Moseley, as the King’s tart I feel barging into my room without notice is highly inappropriate.” She fastened the towel tighter around her. “I didn’t think you would need to be reminded of this.”

  I cringed, breaking my gaze to look at the floor. Clearly she was still really pissed.

  “Please leave so I can change.”

  “Look, I’m sorry for what I said last night.” I stepped farther into the room, ignoring her request. “But it doesn’t matter right now.”

  Her eyebrows lifted, and her hand stayed locked on her towel.

  “You know the guy on the list? The one the bartender told us was dead?”

  “Yeah?”

  “The dead man was alive enough to pull me into an alleyway this morning.”

  “This morning? It’s six thirty.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t sleep. So I went to the bakery right when it opened.” I waved my arm. “It turns out this guy faked his death and went into hiding because anyone who knows anything about the spear turns up dead.”

  “What?” All anger dissolved from her face.

  “He heard about the money we’re offering and thought it was worth the risk to come out of hiding.”

  “What did he say? Does he know where it is?” She took the last few steps to me, her barely covered body forgotten by her. It was not something I could get past. It took a lot of focus for me to stay on point.

  “His lineage is from the Clan O’Brien, and they owned most of the coast along the town of Lahinch. His great-grandfather, times like ten, is thought to have been a member of the crew on the ship which carried the spear.”

  “So…we’re looking in the wrong spot.” Rez reached the conclusion a lot faster than I did.

  I nodded. “It’s all fables and folklores told
down generations, but it’s all we got.”

  A smile inched across Rez’s face as she stared at me. “Guess we are heading to Lahinch then.”

  “Guess so.” I grinned back, both of us elated by this sudden break.

  The moment took a sharp swing, from us talking about the mission to us standing there staring at each other. The insignificant towel barely hit the top of her thighs or covered the top of her chest. My hands twitched, wanting to move to the top of her towel. One tug and it would be gone.

  I balled my hands so tight into fists my bones cracked. The zing of adrenaline from the news mushroomed under my skin, metamorphosing into desire. Her nearness caressed my senses, provoking deep desires. My gaze drifted from her eyes to her lips. Drops of water from her hair trailed over her collarbone and slipped between her breasts.

  There was a slight hitch in her breath. Her body jolted back, putting a huge gap between us, clearing her throat. “This is great news. Give me a few moments to get ready, Mr. Moseley, and we can get on the road.” Rez held up her head, her tone lacking any reaction. Both her hands held tight to her towel.

  “Oh. Yeah. Of course.” I nodded, swiveled, and headed out of the room. I shut the door and walked to my bed, falling back on it. My hand covered my face.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I growled under my breath. I was the one who made such a big deal of us not crossing the line, and the next morning I was the one who wanted to rip the towel right off her.

  If I were really smart, I’d send her back to Lars with some excuse why she couldn’t continue with me. I was tempted. Very tempted. Why didn’t I? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to think about it.

  It was starting to look like retrieving this spear was going to be the easy part of this task. But if it took everything I had, Rez would stay firmly on her side. And if I had to find several cute Irish lasses to rid her from of my system, then bring them on. I’d be grateful to get back to easy sex with no strings, because the woman with me on this mission right now, in my dreams and next door, was torturing me every way possible.