Authors: Georgia Lyn Hunter
Darkness Undone
GENRE: PARANORMAL ROMANCE
Darkness Undone
Copyright © 2016 by Georgia Lyn Hunter
Editor:
Chelle Olsen
All cover art copyright © 2016 by Georgia Lyn Hunter
Images: ©123rf.com
, Obsidian Dawn
DEDICATION
For all my readers who love my broken heroes.
A very short Empyrean glossary:
Me’morae
(my love)
Me’et’ah
(my life)
Me’seya (sweetheart)
Fiyae (baby)
BLURB:
A fading realm, a warrior bound, and the woman who will save them both…
Bound to a vengeful goddess, immortal warrior, Reynner, has little time for the fairer sex. The last thing he wants is to be aligned with another female, even if she is the key to finding an artifact and saving his realm. But his stone-cold resistance is tested, his attraction undeniable for the feisty mortal, until she demands the one thing he cannot give her…his trust.
Eve Leighton avoids intimacy of any sort after an accident in her teens left her with a painful ability to see into another’s mind through physical contact. When an ice-cold warrior claims she is his world’s savior, she’s intrigued, until she dares a look into his soul and sees a man who’s been cruelly betrayed. She agrees to help him and loses her heart. But the man is an unassailable fortress. With quiet determination, she chips away his barriers and a passion darker than night pulls them under.
As his enemies close in on the hunt for the artifact, Reynner must overcome his own personal demons as battles are fought to claim the woman he loves or lose her forever. And Eve has to face her own mortality and fight for a love of a lifetime.
CONTENTS
The sudden hush in the busy little café should have been his first clue shit was about to fly.
Wrapped in his thoughts, Reynner savored his dark roasted coffee hot enough to scrape a layer off his throat, when he became aware of the unnatural quiet. Looking up, he got an eyeful of a tall female sashaying toward him, not in the least surprised she’d found him. Again.
Lustrous black hair framed a face of sheer perfection, one that made gods and men whimper for her favor. A long, fitted white dress with a slit up to her thigh hugged her body and fell to her ankles.
Oh, he understood the awed silence all too well since he’d once succumbed to that same sensual spell. Easing his grip on the mug, he set it aside, wishing he’d taken his coffee to go. A chair scraped on the linoleum opposite him. A moment later, her stiletto heel rode up his leather-clad leg to caress his inner thigh beneath the tablecloth.
He shoved her foot off him. In a measured move, he picked up a coin from the change on the table and spun it so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach across and strangle her.
“Get lost, Inanna. I'm busy.”
“Reynner…” She held out a hand in appeal, her topaz eyes luminescent with tears. “Don’t do this...”
Ignoring the Sumerian Goddess of Love and War hadn’t worked in the past, and certainly not now.
He cut her an implacable stare. “Don’t do what? Ignore you? Or prefer other females?”
Her face darkened at his mention of the women. “Why would you want these weak, pathetic creatures?” Her tears vanished as fast as they appeared. “I'm powerful. I’ll make it wonderful between us again.”
Reynner leaned back in the wooden chair and ran a cool, dismissive gaze over her stunning face and lush body. More flighty promises, but no hint of an apology for what she’d done to him. The thought would never have entered her narcissistic mind.
“I enjoy
other
women.”
“You lie.”
Reynner shrugged. Picking up the fallen coin, he worked it between his fingers. He just wanted coffee and a few minutes of quiet before he went back on the streets. Instead, he got her.
It should have felt good torturing Inanna, but he got no enjoyment, just a prolonged headache that had started over two millennia ago.
How could he have known then that stopping at the Sumerian pantheon would so irrevocably change his life?
“You’ve become cold and unfeeling. One little mistake and you're still making me pay.” Her sulky voice drew him back.
“One little mistake?
” His tone made glaciers seem warm.
“It was just a teeny-tiny year—”
“A year?”
His hands crashed on the table. The coin flew and disappeared beneath a chair. “It was a fucking century in Hell!”
Inanna jerked back and blinked. Several humans turned their way in curiosity.
“Your deception caught me unaware, never forget what I am,” he said, his warning clear.
Her eyes flickered. Not from fear, Inanna didn’t believe there was anyone more powerful than her, but with a gleam of sexual promise. She knew all too well what he was, and why she hounded him.
Empyreans were a race of beings as old as the celestial angels and just as powerful, but far more carnal.
She leaned forward and rested her arms on the table, her low neckline displaying an eyeful of cleavage. “I’ll make it up to you…” Her voice lowered to a smoky promise. “I’ll make you my consort.”
He’d rather be imprisoned in Hell again.
“You have a mate.”
“I am a goddess. I can do whatever I want. Come on, lover,” she wheedled. “It will be good between us again…then I’ll help you find what you seek.”
Reynner stilled, his instincts on alert. Did she know where the missing
Stone
was? But meeting her watchful gaze, he dismissed the thought. No immortal would know for sure. The damn thing hid from them all. Even if she could aid him, he would never accept her help. It always came with a price.
Reining in his irritation, he ignored her baiting and turned to take in the busy café.
The brunette waitress at the table farther down watched him from beneath her lashes while she served a customer. She’d been sending him all sorts of signals from the moment she’d set his coffee down. Ones he didn’t encourage since he had no interest in females as a whole. Besides, he knew what a jealous bitch Inanna could be.
A virulent hiss erupted from opposite him when she spotted the waitress. As if to prove his point, with a flick of her hand, the waitress flew backward, crashing into a table. Chaos erupted, drowning the female’s frightened cry. Two human males rushed to help her.
A cat-like smile curved Inanna’s mouth. But her eyes flared with ire as she played with the deep blue lapis lazuli stone set in intricate silver filigree around her neck. “Look at another human tart again, and I will hurt her.”
Of that, he had little doubt. With his mind, Reynner froze every customer in the café and rose to his feet. Fists planted on the table, he leaned forward, his anger leashed by a thin thread. Her scent of myrrh and exotic crap hit him square in the face, bringing back memories he far preferred locked away in permanent amnesia.
“Reynner…” Her breath came out in a tiny puff, her expression brightening with lust. She raised a hand to stroke his face. He jerked away. “You were a one-night-fuck gone wrong. Go find some other fool to dupe.”
“Arghhhh,”
she shrieked and flashed out from the café.
Unfortunately, she’d be back with lust or vengeance on her mind. He far preferred the latter—
fuck!
He clenched down on his teeth at the sudden spike of pain in his left pec at her retaliation—one he could never escape. Breathing hard through his nose, it took several moments before it eased to bearable levels.
No, it never did to tell one of Inanna’s stature it was over. He’d learned that the hard way when she’d tossed his drugged hide into Hell in a fit of temper. And a worse nightmare had begun.
Reynner clamped down on the destructive memories that would take over and released the humans from his psychic hold. As the din resumed, he walked out of the café. The dissonance and sweltering heat of the Lower East Side welcomed him.
Itching for a no-holds-barred fight to haul him back from anger that rode him, he headed down the street, hoping to come across a horde of demoniis. Those soul-suckers made perfect punching bags, and he got to kill them.
More, it frustrated the hell out of him that he still couldn’t get a bead on the foretold mortal female he’d been searching for. Only her blood could awaken the mystical scroll and lead him to the missing artifact needed to power the waning Stones of Light his world desperately needed.
Lucan, their mage, had foisted the job of finding the girl onto Reynner and pointed him to New York, the one place he’d spent the least amount of time over the centuries. But whomever Lucan had sensed was no longer here. Several weeks of tramping around this city had proven that.
Slipping his hand in his coat pocket, he snagged the last piece of cherry candy, unwrapped it, and popped the thing into his mouth. Perhaps it was time to move on—
His cell went off. Balling up the wrapper, he scored it into a nearby Dumpster before answering. “Yeah?”
“I'm at Club Anarchy, see you in five,” the male on the other end said. Reynner’s cell went dead. He scowled. When the archangel called, it meant more crap was about to fall. Usually on him.
***
Eve Leighton climbed out of the taxi and into a blast of humid air, half tempted to jump back into the cool, protective barrier the interior of the cab offered. The Lower East Side in late August, nope, not a fun place to be right now. Shutting the door, she turned and stepped right into the bile-inducing odor of stale beer. Christ! The stench nearly knocked her off her feet.
The human brewery grinned, displaying a mouthful of stained teeth. “Hello there, you-you gorgeousss thing.”
Eve shot the drunk a withering look. She clutched her purse to her chest, dodged him, and quickened her pace. Her own fault for being late, she’d gotten lost in her work. Again. It took Eric’s irate call to get her rushing from her studio to her apartment, and like a berserker, she’d changed and called a cab. But she’d forgotten a fundamental rule for Friday nights: always leave early. Traffic had been a nightmare.
Nine thirty-seven wasn’t too late, she decided. Her friends couldn’t get mad at her on her birthday. Then she wrinkled her nose wryly. Her bag vibrated, startling her.
Like A Virgin
belted out.
“Dammit!” Eve snatched her cell phone and shut off the song. Her new ringtone had Kataya’s big footprints stamped all over it. She knew precisely why Kat had downloaded that stupid track.
“Eve, tell me you're on your way.” Eric’s annoyed voice grated in her ear.
“I'm here, just around the corner—”
“Good. I’ll meet you outside.”
“No-no, you don’t have to—”
The line went dead. Darn it! She glared at her cell. She didn’t need a bodyguard. Shooting a wary glance behind her, Eve grimaced when she found the greasy-haired drunk stumbling after her.
She hastened her steps and cut through the busy traffic. As she approached Club Anarchy, she blew out a wry breath. Why had she bothered wasting five precious minutes deciding what to wear when leather and skin seemed to be all the rage? Still, she straightened her strappy black top and smoothed her short skirt with its flippy hemline.
Two brawny bouncers guarded the club entrance, keeping order in the long line of noisy party revelers snaking down the alley.
Eric wasn't out front, but Kataya was, dressed in sleek, dark pants and a midriff revealing halter-top. Her belly button ring gleamed in the moonlight. She stood away from the crush at the entrance, smoking. Her corkscrew red hair was scraped into a French braid but a few curly strands escaped to frame her pale face. She waved when she saw Eve, her engagement ring glinting in the light from the streetlamp.
“You know Jake will have a fit if he finds out you're smoking again,” Eve said as she neared her.
Kataya shrugged and killed the stub on the wall, then she hugged Eve. “He won't. He’s in the Middle East. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks…” Eve frowned at her tense tone. “What’s wrong? You seem to be wound up tighter than my copper wire sculptures.”
Kataya snorted, but her whiskey-colored eyes appeared troubled. “I haven’t spoken to Jake in months… I miss him.”
A tiny stab of envy pierced Eve’s heart. Hastily, she blocked the unkind emotion. If anyone deserved happiness, Kataya did. Disowned by her parents when she became pregnant at sixteen, then losing her baby, Kat’s personal life had been a mess until she met Jake.
Kataya popped a breath mint in her mouth. Her gaze fastened on the Band-Aids Eve used to cover up the scrapes and cuts on her hands. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing.” In a protective gesture, Eve balled her fingers, the old scars from her childhood accident pulling tautly over the new injuries. She shrugged. “I got a little too enthusiastic with my sculptures—I'm okay.”
“Hmmn…” Kat murmured. “If you say so. Gloves, Eve.”
At the reminder, she pulled out a dark red pair from her purse and drew them on. Kat didn't bat an eyelid, used to Eve’s colorful handwear. Since she had to spend her lifetime wearing them, she might as well make a fashion statement. “So, who’s here?”
“Eric, Brenna…and David,” she mumbled the last name.
At her friend’s innocent expression, Eve glared. “What did you do, Kat?”
“Nothing. I thought you liked him. Didn’t you say he’s the only one you can tolerate touching?”
“Yes. So?”
“So, I invited him.” Kat glared right back. “You're twenty-five today, and you're going to get laid. Get rid of the damn V. Tonight. Tomorrow. But it’s going to happen.” With a huff, she turned away. “Whoa. Look at him.”
“What? You’ve changed your mind about David and picked out a one-night stand for me now?” Eve taunted.
“Oh, shut up and just look, would you?”
Curious, since Kataya rarely paid heed to any guy except Jake, Eve glanced to where Kat nodded. Her attention instantly captured by a tall, pale-haired man heading for the club entrance He moved with a lazy, sensual saunter, reminding her of a predator stalking prey…for something far darker. Erotic. Her tummy dipped.
“Have you ever seen anything sexier? Bet he’s totally scrumptious from the front. He’s got the whole”—Kataya waved a finger in an attempt to draw what she meant—“dangerous, X-factor thing going for him.”
Eve didn't speak, didn't breathe, her focus riveted. His long burgundy leather coat flared out behind him as he disappeared into the dark, gaping maw of the club. He had to be a movie star or something because the bouncers didn't even stop him.
“Oh, no, get your eyes off him, Eve.” Kat grabbed her arm, dragging her attention away from the entrance and stepping in line to enter the club. “He’s great to drool over, but the badass will probably fry your brains the moment you touch him. That would make your first time a little too
spectacular
.”