Touch of the Angel (Demons of Infernum, #3) (17 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Ronin paced the length of Keegan’s living room floor, cursing the fact that he couldn’t do a damn thing. He was such a shit. Ignoring what she was because it suited him. He’d known all along she was starving. She’d admitted as much to him the first night he’d apprehended her. But knowing what feeding her entailed, he’d put it off. Buried his head in the sand. Hoped she could somehow fight her nature. Now she might very well be dying, and it was his fucking fault.

“Stop, Ronin.” Brynn took a seat on the couch next to Amara’s prone figure, and placed a cold compress over her feverish brow. “This isn’t your fault.”

“In what reality?” he snapped. “I knew she needed to feed. I
knew
it, but I did nothing.”

Keegan walked into the living room with his cell phone in hand. “I’ve got the charter plane. They’re fueling up and should be ready to go by the time you get there.”

“Good.” After Amara had lost consciousness, Ronin had called Cresso, described what happened, and Cresso had assured him Amara had two to three days to get sustenance before she...

Fuck!

If she lost her life because of him, he didn’t know what he’d do.

“You know, I have an incubus friend in New Orleans,” Cresso had said with hesitation in his voice. “I can’t come to you right now, but he might be able to, and it would be faster than flying all the way over here.”

The thought of a stranger laying hands on Amara made him want to destroy everything within reach. “Will she survive the trip to London?”

“Yes.” Cresso’s voice had been certain. “You’ve got enough time.”

“Then we’ll meet you there.” It was stupid, yes, but if there was any sort of choice, he wanted it to be someone he knew and trusted. Someone like Cresso.

When Ronin had spoken again, his voice cracked. “Cresso, I...”

“Hey, it’s okay, man. It’ll be fine. Focus on getting your girl here. She’ll make it through. I promise.”

Ronin hadn’t bothered correcting him about Amara being his girl. Not when there were so many other things to worry about.

“I packed some clothes and toiletries for Amara.” Brynn struggled to rise and Keegan rushed to help her. She pointed to a black duffel bag at the foot of the couch. “She’ll want them when she wakes up.”

“Thank you.”

Brynn’s eyes softened and she walked up to Ronin, dragging him down for a hug. “She’ll be fine. I know it.”

Ronin wished he could be so certain. He closed his arms around her. “Thanks.”

When he pulled away, Keegan snatched him into a one-armed hug. “Dagan’s waiting for you downstairs in his car. Don’t worry, we’ll keep searching for a way to free Amara’s mother.”

Ronin clapped Keegan on the back and broke away. He hefted the duffel bag onto one shoulder, along with a bag he’d packed for himself, and lifted Amara into his arms. She didn’t rouse. Not that he’d expected her to. As Cresso had suggested, he’d given her a human sedative. The effect would only last a few hours, but Cresso had said it would help ease her pain as well as lessen her body’s absorption of the life essence she had left.

He headed down to the garage. As promised, Dagan sat in the driver’s seat of his car. Ronin maneuvered himself and Amara into the backseat, and Dagan took off fast. They made it to the airport quicker than he could’ve hoped. The charter plane and pilot awaited them there.

Dagan carried his and Amara’s bags onto the plane and waited until Ronin laid Amara down on the tan suede couch that lined one end of the plane. He grabbed him into a hug. “Be safe.”

“I’m not going off to war.”

“I know. It’s only...you will
wait
until you get to Cresso, right?”

The insinuation behind his question made Ronin go still. “I don’t have a death wish, brother.”

“Good,” Dagan said into his hair. “Because if you get yourself killed, I’ll beat your fucking ass.”

Ronin broke away with a laugh. “Duly noted.”

“Don’t forget to call us.” Dagan clapped him on the shoulder and left.

As the plane taxied on the runway, Ronin sat next to Amara and laid her head on his lap. She appeared mostly peaceful, though every now and again she would utter a low moan and thrash around. Doubt and uncertainty gnawed at him. Was he doing the right thing in flying all the way to London? What would
she
want him to do?

Dagan’s words came back to haunt him.
You will wait, won’t you?

He would, because Amara wouldn’t want him to lay down his life for hers. Somehow he knew that if he did such a thing, it’d destroy her. She might not think so, but Amara was a decent person, one who’d gotten a bum deal in life. A kind soul rested in her body.

Her brows knitted together and she turned her head toward his stomach. She undulated against him, the hardened peaks of her breasts poking against the satin fabric of her pajamas. The unconscious movement, along with the heavy waves of allure her body put out, made his cock go stiff.
Go back to sleep, you stupid idiot.

“Hold on, Amara.” He cupped her cheek. “We’ll be there soon. Please hold on.”

§

The flaxen-haired angel spotted him and zoomed over to where he and his friends hovered. She placed her cherubic hands on her waist and addressed him with an exaggerated pout.
“
Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” he heard himself respond in that little boy voice.

Inside, he screamed at himself.
No. Don’t turn her away.
But that would do no good. This wasn’t an actual dream, but a memory. He knew better than anyone, he couldn’t change the past.

“Don’t go,” she said with a quiver in her voice. “Stay and play with me.”

He laughed and ruffled her hair. “Go play with your own friends, pest. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

She gave a furtive glance around and her voice lowered to a whisper. “You know you’re not supposed to go to ground. Mama Flavia will kill you if she finds out.”

“We’ll have to make sure she doesn’t find out, won’t we?”

“But Xander, it’s dangerous.” Her eyes welled with emotion, and it tugged at his heartstrings. She’d lost a lot of loved ones. Deep down he knew she feared losing him, too. It was only to be expected of a five-year-old.

“Don’t worry,” he said lightly. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he said with all the confidence of someone who had no idea what the future held.

“Xander, come on,” one of his friends yelled.

“See you later, pest.” He turned, never knowing he’d unintentionally lied to her. That this was the last time he’d see her.

No.

No.

Ronin jolted awake, almost sending Amara tumbling to the ground. He grabbed her and repositioned her on his lap, settling back onto the suede couch. With a sigh, he smoothed her hair from her face. The meaning of his dream hadn’t escaped him. Despite all he’d done to prevent it, here he found himself again. At risk of losing someone he cared about. Like he’d lost his mother...and Lina. Was he forever doomed when it came to the women in his life?

If only he’d turned the other way when he’d first seen Amara at Opiate. Or let her go when she’d fled the dance floor. But he couldn’t back then, and he couldn’t do it now. Something about her called to him on a primal level. It was soul deep, beyond chemistry. Now he could begin to understand how difficult it had been for Keegan when he’d first met Brynn. How he hadn’t been able to resist her, no matter the consequences.

There’s a difference. Keegan and Brynn are madly in love.
He’d only known Amara a few days. So much of her life still remained a mystery to him. This wasn’t love. It couldn’t be love.

Could it?

The plane touched down in the early evening, London time. Cresso’s hired driver collected them and, after a short drive that seemed more like hours to Ronin, he arrived at the apartment. Cresso had recently purchased a new flat with some of the money he was rewarded for his part in Mammon’s capture. Located in the prestigious Mayfair section of London, it took up half of the fifth floor in a classy, eight-story building.

Ronin slid out of the car, hoisting Amara’s weight into his arms, and entered the lobby. A uniformed porter greeted him. He cast his gaze at Amara and his mouth tightened in clear disdain. “I presume you are Dr. Taylor’s guest?”

Ronin frowned. “Who?”

One of the porter’s brows lifted. “Dr. Taylor?”

If that was the last name Cresso had taken since moving to this dimension, then, “Sure.”

“Very good, sir.” The porter directed him to Cresso’s fifth-floor apartment. “I’ll let him know you arrived. Good day.”

The porter clearly had no love for Cresso and what Ronin assumed must appear like his lowlife friends, but he didn’t give a shit if the man’s delicate sensibilities were offended. He took the elevator up, cursing its slow speed. Finally he arrived on the fifth floor. Cresso stood in one of the opened doorways, waiting for him. He wore black slacks and a gray dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and based on his disheveled appearance, he’d been hard at work on something.

“Come in.” Cresso stepped aside so Ronin could maneuver Amara through the door. He motioned to an open set of double doors to Ronin’s left. “Living room is that way. My bedroom is beyond it, on the other side of the flat. But we’re going this way for now.”

Cresso turned right and led them down a hallway. Ronin caught no more than a glimpse of the off-white walls and elegant wood flooring. They passed a small room that Cresso had turned into some sort of makeshift laboratory, then kept going until they reached the end of the hall. A second, larger room with textured gray wallpaper held a large bed decorated in black-and-white bedding.

“Put her down on the bed.” Cresso moved in, checking her vitals before lifting her eyelids back to peer into her eyes. He muttered to himself the whole while. “About eight hours since initial collapse. Still unconscious.”

He glanced over at Ronin. “You’ve kept her sedated the entire time, correct?”

“Yes. Every two hours, like you said.”

“Okay.” He bent over the nightstand beside the bed, which he’d littered with various small jars of colored fluids, along with syringes, a pen, and paper. After scribbling on the paper, he picked up a few of the fluids and started mixing them.

“What are you doing?” Ronin asked, feeling like a total idiot.

“Going to try a few different concoctions on her before I resort to...”

When he trailed off, clearing his throat, Ronin got the hint. “Thanks.”

Not that he expected any of this to work, but it was nice to know Cresso was going to try every other option before moving on to the one they knew would work. The one Ronin dreaded.

“You’ve got time, right?” Ronin asked.

“Yes. Keeping her sedated reduces her body’s absorption of her life force. It gives us some breathing room to try a few things.”

Cresso drew his mixture into a syringe and injected it into Amara, who moaned and moved her head.

“I’m going to need some of your blood, too,” Cresso said, flicking the syringe with his middle finger.

“Okay.” Ronin didn’t know how that would help, but he was more than willing to give whatever he had. “Is any of this going to hurt her?”

“No.” Cresso stood and observed Amara with his brows tightly knitted together. Then, as if for the first time truly noting Ronin’s presence, his face smoothed. “She’ll be okay. Promise. I’ll do what I can for her. If I can’t figure something out, then we’ll do what we have to.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Cresso didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. He was clearly trying these other things because he was a friend and he understood what Ronin was going through. But he couldn’t hold out any hope of it working. Cresso had been searching for a cure for years. It wasn’t going to be coming anytime in the next couple of hours.

§

Several hours later, after Ronin had showered and changed, he sat at a small table nestled into the far end of Cresso’s long, narrow kitchen. He rolled his fifth bottle of beer between his palms. This was hell. The worst sort of hell. He wanted Amara to be okay. To be safe.

To be in
his
arms.

Hell, he’d tried so hard to stay aloof. But he’d gone and let Amara, with her blend of enchantment and vulnerability, into his heart. There was no way back from that, not for him. He would never forget her, no matter what the future held.

Please let her be safe.

Cresso staggered into the kitchen, appearing dejected and weary. He’d untucked his shirt, and the two top buttons were undone. Ronin put the bottle on the table and tensed.

“None of the things I’ve tried are working.” Pursing his lips, Cresso opened his refrigerator and grabbed a beer, then slouched into the chair opposite Ronin.

Ronin tried to quell the disappointment in the pit of his stomach. He took a swig of his beer. “We knew it was more than a long shot.”

“I feel like I’m so close. Almost there. Like I’m missing something.” Cresso popped the cap and took a big gulp of his beer. Then another, until it was gone. He rose and fetched himself another one. When he spoke, his voice was ripe with disappointment. “I don’t know if there’s anything else I can do for her.”

The very thing Ronin had feared...and expected. Devil, this hurt so bad. Tearing his heart out of his chest barehanded and stomping on it would have been less painful. But there was nothing to be done.

“You should get it over with.” When Cresso plunked his beer down on the table and gave him a questioning glance, Ronin added, “It’s only sex, right? Basic sustenance for your kind. She’ll be fine. Then we can be on our way.”

Logically he knew this was true. There was nothing personal about it. She needed sex to live. Yet it still hurt to imagine her with anyone else.

“It’s not just sex. If it had been, you wouldn’t have flown all the way out here to make sure
I
did it instead of some stranger.” When Ronin winced at those words, Cresso’s expression softened. “Love is a mystery. We don’t choose who we fall in love with, and a lot of times it’s damned inconvenient or even downright idiotic, but it is what it is. You can’t fight it.”