Surrender (3 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Bright rays of sunshine came through the truck’s window and reflected off the rhinestones on Wendy’s bag, causing bursts of tiny rainbows to dance across the roof.

Wendy watched the colorful display. It helped her remain quiet and ignore the others in the vehicle.

Using some kind of mind control, Cyn had swayed the doctor into releasing her early from the hospital. Dressed in jogging pants and a T-shirt that Emma had purchased for her, she’d been bundled up and carried out by Jake.

After climbing into Cyn’s truck, they drove to her apartment, where Emma and Cyn left her in the truck with the bodyguard while they went in and picked up clothes and a few other items that she might need.

Wendy noticed that Emma also grabbed the rolling bag where she kept all her jewelry-making supplies. Exactly how long were they planning to keep her captive?

As they drove through the heavy Atlanta traffic, Wendy could not keep silent any longer, although she still refused speak to the traitors in the front seats. She slid closer to Jake and the man frowned down at her.

“Do you have any gum?” She smiled sweetly at him.

He shook his head. “No.”

Then, she placed her hand on his knee. “How about a mint?” The muscles under her hand constricted, and he looked at her through narrowed eyes.

“No.”

“Wendy, stop bothering Jake.” Emma tried to sound stern, but she smiled when she turned to look at her. With an apologetic look, she spoke to Jake, “Sorry, Wendy likes to mess with people, especially quiet ones like you.”

Huffing in mock disgust, Wendy moved away from Jake. “If I were speaking to you Emma, I would be calling you a spoilsport. I’m sure little Jake here can handle himself.”

Cyn’s shoulders shook. He was trying hard not to laugh out loud, but a chuckle escaped. Jake must have caught sight of it as well because he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clenching his jaw.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked, barely moving his lips.

Her eyebrows shot up. The man could actually speak an entire sentence.

“No, thank you,” she replied and went back to looking at the floating rainbows on the car’s roof.

A few minutes later, Cyn drove through an ornate iron gate, which automatically swung open when they pulled up. He followed a circular cobblestone driveway and stopped in front of a massive residence.

Wendy emerged from the truck and studied the house.The stark grey stucco facade of the three-story building was softened by white shutters, which flanked the sides of every window. Colossal fluted pillars gave the massive oak front door old southern-plantation warmth. Ferns hanging from iron hooks swayed in the breeze, while the soft squeak of two white rocking chairs flowed in rhythm with the plants.

The door opened just as they reached the porch. An older man dressed entirely in black with perfectly coifed grey hair gave them a stiff nod and moved aside to allow them in.

Cyn helped Wendy hobble in on her crutches, and Emma entered behind them, followed by Jake, who placed Wendy’s bag inside the doorway and returned to the vehicle.

Wendy watched Jake walk away and sighed, wishing she could run after him, shove him aside, and jump into the car to escape.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful for her friends’ concern. After all, she was in no hurry to run into another demon, but she didn’t want to stay at a strange Protector’s house with butlers, not to mention the fact that she was supposed to pretend she didn’t know about demons and Protectors to begin with.

Emma was terrified the Protectors would wipe her mind if they found out. She wasn’t too thrilled at the prospect of a brain swipe.

Once inside, the butler showed them to an elegantly furnished room. King Louis style chairs and couches were flanked by intricately carved tables, on which sat exquisite Tiffany lamps. Plush, moss-green drapes hung from the high windows, giving the room a warm feel. While the decor was not to her taste, Wendy had to admit it was well designed. With contrasting colors of pale greens and darker emeralds, the room invited a person to relax.

She allowed the butler to help her to a chair and lifted her foot when he pulled a footstool under it for her. The man winked at her when she met his gaze. Okay, so maybe the people here wouldn’t be too stuffy.

A sleek male walked into the room; his violet eyes rested on her momentarily before he went and placed his hand on Cyn’s shoulder. Cyn returned the gesture.

Hubba hubba.
Wendy glanced at Emma with raised eyebrows, silently communicating her approval. Now things were looking up. This man was definitely a yummy treat for the eyes.

Obviously a Protector, he stood almost as tall as Cyn. His tousled chestnut hair, cut short in the back and slightly longer in the front, gave him a roguish look. The pants he wore had to be custom tailored to his tall frame.  She got this impression by the way the fabric fell perfectly from his hips over his taunt ass, just past his shoes, and not quite to the floor. The promise of a well-muscled chest under the lavender cashmere sweater he wore made Wendy bite her lip to keep from sighing out loud. The sweater’s V-neck allowed her a peek of a light feathering of dark hair on his chest.

Clearing her throat, Emma rolled her eyes at her playfully and patted her shoulder. “Fallon, this is Wendy. She’s still a little loopy from the pain medication, so forgive her if she starts drooling.”

Wendy slapped Emma’s hand away when Fallon made his way over to her.

“Hello, Wendy. I’m sorry to hear about your accident.” His British accent almost did make Wendy drool.

“Oh, that…well, I’m okay. Just a bit loopy, like Emma said.”

Fallon’s smile faltered when he glanced toward the door. “Ah, Kieran, I see you’ve come down. Would you ladies please excuse us? Hector will bring some refreshments.”

Wendy’s gaze jerked to the doorway.

He
stood there, studying her with a sleepy expression, as if totally bored. Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach pitched at the sight of his stunning face. Without a word, he barely granted her and Emma a perfunctory glance before following Cyn and Fallon as they walked out of the room.

Emma sank into a chair next to hers. “Oh, God, this is such a bad idea. They’re going to figure out that you know about them—oh, goodness,” her friend whispered, wringing her hands nervously. “Why couldn’t you have just agreed to come home with us?” She hit Wendy lightly on the shoulder.

“I can keep a secret, Emma,” Wendy replied, astounded at the small amount of faith her friend had in her. “I can. You’ll see. I’ll just stay in my suite or tower or wherever they put me in this palace and not speak a word about what I know. I doubt they’ll be able to read my mind either. I’m a steel trap.” She tapped her temple with her finger.

“Oh, God, we’re doomed.” Emma fell back in the chair, covering her face with her hands. “What are we going to do?”

In the library, Kieran stalked to the bar and poured a generous serving of whiskey. His heart pounded so hard that he was sure it was audible to the other Protectors in the room. There was no way he’d remain in the house with that female Wendy here.

Something about her bugged him. He’d only met her once before, but even then, her presence set his every instinct to red alert. The warning in his head implored him to get as far away from her as humanly possible. A soft growl erupted at the thought of having to remain at Fallon’s, and his sour mood worsened with every passing minute.

He hadn’t liked the way Wendy ogled Fallon, but surely that wasn’t the reason for his reaction. Maybe he just needed some fresh air, away from the snobbery of Lord Fallon and the stuffiness of the house.

Said Lord settled into a chair and began picking invisible lint from his pants leg. “What is the situation Cynden? And why is the incredibly fascinating female here?”

Kieran snarled at Fallon, and Cyn shook his head, his eyes darting between them. “I should have come sooner and hung out with you two. How many times have you pounded on each other?”

“Just once,” Kieran said, his eyes narrowed at Fallon. “He learned not to try me after that.”

“Please,” Fallon retorted, waving Kieran’s words away. “Cynden, the situation?”

“Wendy was attacked by a demon. I’m sure of it.” At his brother’s words, Kieran almost dropped his drink. He collapsed in the nearest chair and waited for Cyn to continue. “She told Emma that a guy walked her home from Rico’s, the Midtown coffee shop, and pulled her into a dark doorway. She thought he was going to try to kiss her, but then his eyes turned red, and he grew fangs. Somehow, she managed to knee him and run away before he could bite her and feed. While running away from him, she got hit by a truck.

“I tried to read her mind, but she’s a bit of a challenge for me,” Cyn told them. “I thought I’d leave that up to you, Fallon.”

Fallon was the strongest mind reader among them. Actually, the man had the strongest mind powers of all of the Protectors he knew, other than Julian.

Cyn finished speaking, giving Kieran a questioning look. “Kit? What the hell is wrong with your hand?” he asked, using the family nickname.

Blood dripped from his fist onto the rug. Kieran opened his hand, and shards of the glass he’d crushed fell. Blinking several times to clear the red haze, he griped his right hand with the other one to stop the blood flow and got up, moving away from the men’s curious stares.

“Your brother is wound tight. He needs some sort of medication,” Fallon told Cyn. Then, he looked over at Kieran. “Man, I thought, after last night ,you would be a bit more relaxed. Maybe next time we’ll get you three women. Oh, and you’re paying to clean my carpet.” He eyed the floor with a frown.

“Shut up, Fallon,” Kieran barked and then spoke to his brother. “We can’t keep her here. It’s not a good idea.”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Fallon replied. “She’s very attractive in a unique sort of way.”

“Stay away from her.” both brothers simultaneously warned Fallon, who gave them a bored look in return and held his hands up. “You should be telling
her
that. Did you not notice the way she checked me out?”

“Like I said, a bad idea,” Kieran grumbled. “But what the hell do I care? I’m going outside.” He started to get up.

“There’s something else,” Cyn said, which made Kieran pause and sit back down.

“The demon asked her for a key.”

CHAPTER SIX

The elegance of her guest room echoed the decor of the rest of the house. The focal point of the space was a huge teak four-poster bed overflowing with fluffy pillows covered to match the different hues of yellow in the stripes on the wallpaper. A rich down comforter enticed her to sink into it.

Wendy groaned and hobbled to the bed. A sharp pain shot up her leg, and she cringed. It was time to take another dose of painkillers.

Her lips curved at the sight of a diminutive intercom on the nightstand. Primly, she pressed the button and asked Hector for a glass of juice.

Minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Wendy called for him to enter, and Hector walked in with a tray. “I’ve brought you tea and toast, along with your juice.” His voice was deep but soft at the same time. “Is there anything else you require, Miss O’Sullivan?” He’d already made it back to the door.

“No, thank you. Except can you tell me where the guys are sleeping, you know…in case of emergency.”

“You can ring the intercom at any time, Miss. I will come and assist with whatever you require.” At her silence, he continued. “Mr. Fraser is on this floor, just down the hall. The next door on the right. Lord Trent’s suites are on the third floor.”

The entire third floor? Jeez.
Wendy thanked Hector, who smiled warmly in return.

After Hector left, she sank back on the pillows. “Well, this is boring,” she grumbled out loud. “It’s too quiet.” She scanned the room, looking for a source of entertainment. She found the one thing lacking so far in the house. There was no television or radio anywhere in sight.

If Kieran and Fallon were firmly ensconced somewhere, she could not hear them. The silence was too loud. Wendy studied the door, pondering whether she should go explore.

Kieran slept on this floor? Right down the hall. Maybe she’d tiptoe to his room later and peek in on him while he snoozed. Smiling at the thought, Wendy swallowed her pain pills and hobbled to the bathroom to take a shower. It was going to be interesting maneuvering in the shower without getting her bandaged ankle wet.

By the time she’d showered and put her pajamas on, exhaustion took over. Wendy rested on the bed, with a steaming cup of tea and a book. She blinked several times, trying to focus on the words on the page, but it took too much effort to keep her eyelids from drooping. There would be no reading tonight, she could barely keep her eyes open.
Damn pain pills.
She was about to crash hard, which meant no trip to steal a look at Kieran.

Her eyelids fell, and though she tried to force them open, Wendy knew she was fighting a losing battle. She sensed that someone was looking down at her, but maybe it was a dream. Her brain told her to pay attention, but the lure of sleep proved irresistible.

Kieran walked into Wendy’s room. He stood at the side of the bed and studied her for a few moments. Not wanting to be in the same room with her earlier, he’d avoided dinner. No doubt Fallon had celebrated his absence and having Wendy’s complete attention. He didn’t doubt it, since Fallon hadn’t sent Hector to Kieran’s room to fetch him, like he’d made a habit of doing at least twice every dinner time since he’d moved in.

During the dinner meal, on his way to the kitchen to grab a sandwich, Kieran overheard their conversation. Fallon had told Wendy about his family and properties in England and other countries, probably in an effort to impress her with his lengthy list of pedigrees and addresses.

A soft sigh came from the slumbering Wendy, bringing him back to the present. She wore a thin, black sleeveless pajama top, which complimented her fair skin, and the low neckline exposed the tops of her breasts. At the sight, heat flared, sending searing paths directly between his legs. Kieran jerked the blankets up, covering the sleeping woman to her neck.

There was a purpose for him being there. He was sure he’d seen Wendy before. A week ago, they’d run into each other at the hospital when Emma had been admitted after saving Cyn’s son from a demon. Emma had been electrocuted and almost died.

That day in the hospital, upon seeing Wendy, a peculiar sensation stirred within him. There was something about her that sparked a memory, as if they’d shared a connection of some sort. He could swear their paths had crossed before that day at the hospital.

He leaned in and studied her more closely. She wore her auburn hair short, barely past her chin, cut in an uneven, choppy, modern look. Through narrowed eyes, he imagined her with longer curls, the hue a lighter shade.

Yes, that was it. Her hair was a different length once, past her shoulders and a more vivid reddish-blonde.

Seeming to sense his presence, she fretted and turned her head away from him. On her otherwise creamy throat, the evidence he needed stood out clearly. Now, he knew.

The scar of a demon bite.

She was the fiery beauty he’d saved from a demon attack several years earlier. Without thinking, he reached out and touched the scar. Wendy was the woman who’d haunted his dreams for months after that night. It took a lot of whiskey and many women to help him push her memory away, and he’d done a damn good job of it.

Now she was back.

“Is there a reason why you’re hovering over the woman, Kieran?”

So involved in his study of Wendy, Kieran hadn’t heard Fallon approach. He ignored the intrusion for several beats, trying to come up with a reason for being in the bedroom. He took his time before looking toward the doorway.

“I thought I’d try to read her mind while she slept.”

Fallon raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, disbelief apparent on his face. “And?”

Damn it, he hadn’t tried to read her thoughts. Now what? Instead of replying, Kieran walked past Fallon out to the hallway and headed toward his room. As he expected, the Brit followed him.

“I didn’t get a chance to start before you came. Why were you there?”

Entering his temporary bedroom, Kieran studied his partner and waited for his reply.

“I came to have a discussion with you, actually. When I saw her bedroom door open, I glanced in and saw you about to drool all over her,” Fallon replied, picking up Kieran’s sword and scabbard off a chair before sitting in it. He studied the design on the hilt. “The Fraser clan crest is quite impressive.”

Kieran walked over and snatched the weapon from him. “Yes, it is. What do you want, Fallon?”

“She intrigues you, doesn’t she?” Fallon asked, smiling lazily before continuing, not waiting for a reply. “I have to admit that with those beguiling emerald eyes and pouty lips, she is a walking temptation for more than a kiss. A problem since she is off-limits while under our care. As you pointed out earlier.”

Anger surged and he clenched his jaw, not liking how much attention Fallon paid to Wendy’s attributes. Kieran lay back on the bed, placed his hand beneath his head, and stared at the ceiling. Just a few more days, and he would be out on the streets fighting demons. In four days, he would be away from the stuffiness of this house and away from her. He needed his space.

Fallon’s voice cut into his thoughts.

“Unlike you, I delved into her mind during dinner.”

Kieran continued staring at the ceiling without thought. Thoughts and emotions were hard to hide from Fallon. The Brit had a very powerful gift, a gift that came in handy when fighting demons and erasing human’s memories but a pain in the butt for anyone who wanted to hide anything from him.

All Protectors were given the ability to read minds and erase memories, but on rare occasions, some humans were exceptionally strong-willed, and it proved difficult or downright impossible. It was a learned practice for most of the Protectors, but Fallon was born with the ability. After he became a Protector, his powers increased. Kieran didn’t know of anyone or anything that could conceal their thoughts or feelings from him.

“Aren’t you the least bit interested in what I got from Gwendolyn?” Fallon asked, giving him an incredulous glare.

“Does it affect me in any way? If it doesn’t, then I don’t really give a shit.” Kieran propped himself up on his elbows. “Unless you want to see my naked ass, please leave. I’m about to take a shower.”

Fallon sighed but didn’t make any move indicating he was leaving. “It might affect us. I was not able to read her thoughts clearly, which could be due to her recent upset. I did, however, sense her emotions. They were normal after what she went through—fear, anger, and nervousness. It’s been a long time since I came across a human whose mind I couldn’t read clearly. Another thing I find intriguing about our guest. Tomorrow, both of us will try at the same time.” With that, he stood up and stretched. “I better leave before I’m blinded by your bare bits.” He walked out, closing the door firmly behind him.

Long copper hair, frightened green eyes, trembling lips—images from the past flashed through Kieran’s mind. The woman had clung to him, and he’d automatically wanted to protect her, to soothe her and ensure her safety. Against protocol, he’d taken her back to her apartment and spent hours soothing her until she’d fallen asleep against his chest. He remembered how her fingers had clutched onto the front of his shirt. Guilt-filled, he’d gently shaken her awake to erase her memory of him and the demon attack. Just before he did so, her fear-filled eyes had met his, and he was sure he was going to kiss her. He didn’t. He’d erased her memory of what transpired that evening and left.

He’d left the apartment but not her. Wendy was burned into his brain. For months, he’d done everything possible to forget her, and now, here she was, just down the hall.

Within reach.

He raised his hand and studied the cut from earlier.  The scar was barely visible now and completely healed. He thought about the women in the library the night before. He’d been pleasured, never allowing them to caress his face or kiss him. A long-standing rule of his.

How long has it been? How long since he’d touched a woman he cared for? Better yet, how long since he’d kissed a woman?

Over three hundred years.

No one—no one since Catarina.

Angry at the direction of his thoughts, he pushed to his feet and headed to the bathroom.