CHAPTER 14
Aiko pointed to the sign on the street marking the basement bar. It was one of her favourites in the Roppongi district. The skyscrapers towered above it, bright in the darkness, and the street was busy even at the late hour, people coming and going between the entertainment establishments in the area. A black taxi pulled up outside the club and two women clambered out of it, said something to the driver, and disappeared down the steps.
As Esher’s brothers moved off ahead of them, blending into the night in their black clothing, looking like a group of deadly assassins as they prowled towards the steps that led down into the club, Esher slowed.
She slowed with him, a feeling growing within her with each step further his brothers moved from them, a heavy weight that pressed down on her and would only be lifted when they were alone.
When she could touch Esher again, could kiss him as she had been dying to all night.
She had caught the need that had flared in him from time to time throughout the night, an ache that had flared in her too, had made her burn whenever his eyes had followed her, or she had looked at him. It had blazed hotter than the sun when he had taken hold of her after Keras had made her read his dark mind, and again when he had kissed her hand.
She had never wanted to be alone with a man like this before, had never yearned with a need to run away and construct a wall around them both to isolate them from the world.
“I’m sorry about my brother,” Esher said in Japanese as he lingered on the pavement near the steps, watching his brothers head inside, and she didn’t stop him when he took hold of her hand. His was cool against it, but it warmed her, sending a pleasant hot wave rolling through her that had her stepping towards him.
Darkness reigned in his eyes, anger that she wanted to soothe.
“It was difficult, but… I did not mind doing it.” Because she had the feeling it had been important.
She just wasn’t sure why.
Before she could ask Esher, he tugged her towards the entrance of the club, leading her down the steps. He pushed the heavy door open and held it for her. Rather than moving through the crowd towards his brothers where they stood near the bar, gaining curious glances from many of the people in the club, Esher tugged her left.
Into the shadows.
Her heart leaped into her throat as he pulled her in front of him, beating frantically as he backed her into the corner and hemmed her in with his body, planting his hands either side of her head. He breathed hard, and she could feel his struggle. It echoed her own.
She caught hold of the sides of his dark grey shirt near his collar, tugged him towards her, and moaned when he dipped his head and captured her lips, his breath hissing from him as he kissed her.
Damn, she needed him.
It had been building inside her all night. She had been watching him too, putting up with her friends teasing, each second agony as she had counted the minutes until her shift would end and she could be with him again. More than once, she had wanted him to come to her, had wanted to sneak away with him into one of the empty booths and steal a kiss like this.
She opened for him, and he groaned and shuddered as his tongue tangled with hers. Her grip on his shirt tightened, and then she gave herself over to the need rising inside her, vanquishing her nerves. She released his shirt and pressed her palms against his chest, moaned as the feel of his hard muscles and his heart pounding frantically against her hands sent a warm shiver through her.
He pressed into her, kissing her harder, so hungrily that she got caught up in his fervour, forgot the world existed and they weren’t alone. He shifted his hips closer, and she trembled as she felt his hardness against her belly.
Her hands shook as a need went through her, a wicked one that had her blushing.
One she had to obey.
It felt as if her very life depended on satisfying it.
She skimmed her left hand down his chest, feeling the tempting ridges of his stomach as he tensed, his breath hitching as he kissed her, driving her mad with a need for more. She trailed her fingers over the belt of his black jeans and hesitated for only a second before turning her hand and cupping his rigid length.
Esher groaned and whispered against her lips, “Touch me. I need you.”
Aiko’s cheeks blazed, awareness of everyone crashing back down around her, but it didn’t stop her from doing it, because she needed to feel him too.
She rubbed her palm up and down his length as he kissed her, his moans quiet enough that no one would hear them over the thumping music, and the corner dark enough that she was sure no one could see what they were doing.
But damn, she wasn’t sure she would care if someone did.
All that mattered was satisfying the need that had been steadily building inside her all night.
“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he uttered against her lips, kissed her again and then pressed his forehead against hers, his breathing as ragged as her own. “Put me out of my misery. I want to leave right now… go to that teahouse… make love with you.”
She wanted that too, his words setting fire to a deeper need, one that had her leaning closer to him, trapping her hand between their bodies. She wanted him. All of him. It frightened her, but excited her more.
She tiptoed and kissed him, hard this time, unable to hold back any longer, needing to show him that he wasn’t alone and she ached for him too, wanted to fulfil that vision he had painted of them together at the teahouse, making love beneath the moon.
Aiko froze and broke away from his lips, her gaze scanning the crowded room as a feeling arrowed through her.
“Why did you stop?” Esher dropped his head to her neck, devouring it with kisses. His hands clutched her hips, drawing her against him. “I still can’t believe you know I’m a god and you want to be with me.”
“I’ve been able to sense spirits for a long time now.” She pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him back to stop him from distracting her, overloading her with sensation. The feeling grew clearer, her ability pinpointing his brothers and him, and something else. “That’s why I can feel something is wrong. There are new spirits here. Bad spirits.”
Esher immediately grabbed her and pulled her swiftly through the crowd.
His brothers jeered as they approached.
“Scatter, now!” His words seemed slowed in her ears as she spotted one of the spirits she had sensed at the entrance of the club.
The dark-haired male lifted his hand, his thumb coming down on something he held.
“Run!” Aiko shoved Esher hard, heart slamming against her ribs as adrenaline and fear surged through her.
A wave of heat and light rolled through the room, and Esher twisted her into his arms, pinning her against the bar and shielding her with his body. There was a deafening bang, the floor bucked hard, almost sending her to her knees, and then screams rang around her.
But the explosion didn’t reach her and Esher, or his brothers.
She stared at Keras where he stood beyond Esher with both hands outstretched in front of him, at the flames and debris that hit an invisible barrier just inches from him.
At the blood that rolled down it like rain on a window.
Her stomach lurched, the sickening stench of burning flesh and other things assaulting her nose.
She pulled back to check Esher wasn’t hurt.
Cold crimson eyes looked down at her.
And then he was gone.
Aiko sagged against the bar, heart frozen in her chest as Esher disappeared in a swirl of black smoke, only to reappear on the other side of Keras’s barrier. He let out an inhuman snarl as he shoved the humans in his path aside, heading towards a second attacker. The fair-haired man fumbled with the detonator in his hand.
Before he could press the button, Esher had appeared behind him and had ripped the vest of explosives off him. The man frantically pressed the button as Esher held the vest up and glared at it, and then at him. A cruel smile twisted Esher’s lips when it didn’t detonate.
The man tried to run, and his feelings struck her. Fear. He hadn’t been afraid to die when he had been on the verge of detonating himself, but now he was terrified.
Because Esher was going to kill him?
Some part of her thought she should stop him as she watched him capture the man by his throat and lift him from the floor, that she should be horrified by what he was doing as he stared at the man, his eyes blazing scarlet but as cold as ice, but the rest of her wanted him to do it.
She wanted the man to pay for what he had done, hurting countless innocent people, and what he had intended to do, killing those now struggling to escape, clawing their way towards the destroyed exit or away from Esher where he held the man aloft, staring at him.
Do it.
It was wrong of her, but she wanted him to do it.
Esher’s eyes narrowed slowly.
The man began to flail, frantically kicking at Esher’s legs and clawing at his arms, a wild thing in his grip. A grip that slowly tightened, until the man was choking. No, she realised as she watched blood trickle from the man’s nose, appearing black to her, and from his eyes, and saw it began to creep from his ears.
It wasn’t Esher’s grip that was making him choke.
It was Esher’s power.
She could feel it rising in him, and it was a dark and terrible tide, fuelled by anger that had his lips twisting in a satisfied sneer as he watched the man bleed.
The man convulsed, shaking violently in Esher’s grip, but Esher remained unmoving, his arm steady and eyes locked on him, no trace of emotion in them as he watched the man bleed out. The man coughed up blood, thick streams of it that ran over his chin and formed a puddle below his feet where they dangled at least eight inches off the ground, splattering across the rubble and sending dust up into the air.
People continued to pull themselves away from him, desperate cries leaving their lips as they forced themselves to move, their fear pushing down on Aiko together with their pain, pulling her focus to them. They needed her help.
When she moved, Esher’s gaze whipped to her.
His expression darkened.
The man threw his head back and blood burst from his lips, cascading down his face, and then he went still.
Esher dropped the body.
Turned crimson eyes on the people crawling away from him.
“Esher, don’t!” Daimon called and was moving in an instant.
A cold feeling went through Aiko.
He was going to hurt the people next.
“Esher!” She took a step towards him instead of the people she had intended to help, and he looked at her again.
A flicker of blue shone in amidst the red of his irises.
Fire exploded in a wave behind him, knocking him forwards, and one of his brothers screamed his name.
A wall of ice and earth shot up behind him, creating a barrier, but not before the tip of the explosion caught Esher, the force of it hurling him to his knees on the rubble from the first blast.
Aiko was by his side in an instant, her heart in her mouth as she saw the torn up back of his shirt, a slick patch on the back of his head, and lacerations on his neck.
“Esher.” She fluttered her hands over him, panic claiming hold of her, and then her mind emptied and her heart steadied, and something clicked into place inside her.
She instinctively followed her training, checking him from head to toe for wounds, and any sign of broken bones, no sound reaching her ears other than her own ragged strained breathing. When she saw only superficial wounds, she risked taking hold of his shoulders.
He responded instantly.
In the blink of an eye, she was tucked against his chest, his body shielding hers again and his grip so tight she found it hard to breathe.
He shook against her, hands trembling where they gripped the nape of her neck and her waist, pinning her to him.
“Need to protect my little butterfly,” he whispered. “Keep it together and protect my little butterfly.”
She realised that was her.
She wrapped her arms around him as best she could, holding him. “I’m fine. I can’t sense any more of the bad spirits.”
He refused to release her, kept her crushed against his chest. Safe.
His shaking worsened, and she caught his emotions as they grew stronger—rage, fear, and a darkness that frightened her a little, but she could also feel that he needed her, and that need was genuine.
Daimon stopped beside them, and she looked up his long black-denim-clad legs, over his dark roll-neck sweater, to his face. He crouched beside Esher, his pale blue eyes on him, concern flooding them.
“Everyone is safe,” Daimon murmured, his words an odd contrast to the sobs and moans of the people around them, people who were injured. Dying. He didn’t seem to notice as he focused on Esher. “Everyone is safe. The daemons are gone. You dealt with them. The threat is over. Everyone is safe. Focus on my voice, Esher. Focus on me now.”
When Esher only held her closer and loosed another inhuman growl, Daimon glanced at his brothers, his expression revealing fear.
Why?
“Tycho,” Daimon whispered and held his hand out, slowly, as if he was approaching a dangerous animal and feared getting his hand bitten off if he startled it. He kept his voice low, a soothing murmur. “Tycho. Focus on the word, Esher. Focus on me. Tycho.”
Every time Daimon said that strange word, Esher’s grip on her loosened a little, and she could breathe again. His trembling began to subside.
“Everything is okay now. Everyone is fine. Everyone is safe. See?” Daimon hovered his hand an inch from Esher’s shoulder. “Look.”
Esher drew back, but he didn’t look at his brother.
He looked at her.
Aiko lifted her dirty hands and framed his face, keeping his eyes on her. They were blue again now, blue but so inky they were almost black, and only spots of crimson remained. Whatever that crimson meant, it was bad, and she wanted to know why it happened, and what to do to bring Esher back.
As Daimon had.
Beyond him, Ares appeared in a swirl of black smoke that clung to him and the pretty brunette woman in his arms.
“What happened?” She sounded American. Her warm brown eyes rose to Ares when she noticed the body of the creature Daimon had referred to as a daemon. “That looks like a nasty way to go.”
“Better than exploding.” Ares nodded to the spots where the other two daemons had detonated themselves, one close to where they had appeared and the other beyond the crumbling wall of dirt and melting ice.
Aiko wasn’t sure the daemon Esher had killed had experienced a death that had been better than the other two. It had been drawn out, excruciating. Esher had made sure he had suffered.
Because he had felt a need to protect his brothers.
Her.
She looked back at him, at the way he was watching her closely, his dark eyebrows furrowed with the concern that flickered in his eyes, and knew she was the reason he had lost control.
When the woman started helping the injured, Aiko tried to get free of Esher’s grip so she could help.
He immediately dragged her against him, his grip so fierce it hurt.
“I can help too,” she said, but he showed no sign of releasing her. Her eyes darted between his. “I have to help, Esher. Let me help them.”
“Let her help.” Daimon weathered the glare Esher turned on him. “Everyone is safe now. Everyone is okay.”
Esher drew down a deep, shuddering breath, and closed his eyes as he nodded.
But he still didn’t release her.
Aiko brushed her thumbs across his cheeks, smearing the ash and blood. “I’m safe, Esher. No one will hurt me… and I am not afraid, because I know you will protect me.”
He sucked down another deep breath, leaned forwards and pressed his forehead against her neck, and she stroked her palms over his back, and frowned as she felt the blood on her hands. His blood.
She needed to tend to him too.
But there were people in far more need of her than he was.
She looked at the people, at the ones who had already died, and those struggling to stem the flow of blood from their wounds, or desperately trying to help others.
“Please, Esher?” Because she couldn’t sit idle any longer. She had to help them.
He inhaled hard, exhaled in another shuddering sigh, and finally released her.
She stood, her legs like jelly beneath her, body shaking as the adrenaline dump waned and she was left facing the cold reality of what had happened. The lights in the large room flickered on and off, and smoke curled from several places, making the air thick and hot, and difficult to breathe. She pushed herself to move, told herself that there were no more daemons left, that there was only Esher and his brothers, and the injured.
She had to help them.
She picked her way over the rubble to the woman Ares guarded and her eyes widened when she realised the brunette didn’t have a medical kit.
She was healing the injured by holding her hands above them. The wounds beneath her touch knitted back together and Aiko could only stare in amazement. She didn’t have such an incredible gift, but she could do her part.
“Let me help,” Aiko said in English, and the woman looked up.
She nodded. “There should be a med kit. Grab it and patch up as many of the people with less life-threatening injuries.”
“We need to get motoring or the authorities will arrive.” Ares’s deep voice became a growl when the woman winced, leaned forwards, and shook her head. He stooped and touched her back. “Megan, you’re overdoing it.”
She shot him a frown. “I’m fine. Stop fussing.”
“I’ll help.” Aiko hurried across the room, feeling Esher’s eyes tracking her, and searched behind the bar for the med kit. There were two. She took both and tended to a wound on the bartender’s throat first, and then one on the leg of a woman.
She moved from person to person, her heart growing heavier as she did her best to help as many of the people as she could, their blood and dirt from the blast coating her hands and her clothes as she worked quickly.
So many of them were dead though.
She stopped near a woman, one of the group she had seen exiting the taxi when they had arrived, and checked for a pulse. When she felt nothing, she sank back on her knees and stared at the woman, cold blooming inside her as her eyes burned, and hot tears spilled onto her cheeks.
“Can you help over here?” Megan called.
Aiko brushed her tears away, pushed onto her feet and forced herself to move, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking at every body she passed, and the tears returned, streaming down her cheeks no matter how hard she tried to stop them.
When she reached Megan and sank to her knees, she felt Esher’s eyes on her.
She looked across at him as she applied pressure to a leg wound on a man while Megan worked to heal another on his side where a pipe had pierced him.
Worry danced in his blue eyes, his expression relaying his need to come to her and comfort her, but he kept his distance and all the light in his eyes turned dark when he glanced at the man she was helping.
“Esher.” Keras regained his attention.
“It wasn’t me who sensed the daemons. It was Aiko.” When Esher said that, Keras looked at her.
He beckoned her with a wave of his hand, but he could wait, because she was needed where she was. She ignored him and kept pressure on the wound, still amazed at the way Megan was healing the man.
When Megan had closed the wound on his side, she smiled shakily. “Thanks.”
Megan reached for the man’s leg as he moaned, and Ares palmed her shoulders.
“You’re doing great, Sweetheart,” he murmured. “A couple more and we’re done.”
She nodded, blew out her breath and focused.
Aiko rose to her feet and brushed her tangled black hair from her face as she went to Esher. The moment she was within reach, he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, nuzzling her neck and holding her tightly. She sank against him, tired and aching, wanting to leave the carnage and try to put it all out of her mind even when she knew it would haunt her for weeks.
“How many daemons did you sense?” Keras said.
“Four.” She wasn’t really certain. Just as she found it hard to distinguish how many of Esher’s brothers were near her when they were grouped together, becoming a mass of signatures to her, she had found it hard to count the number of daemons.
He frowned. “Four?”
She nodded. “Or three… it’s hard to say.”
“There’s a big difference between three and four.” Keras swiped a hand over his short black hair, his green gaze dark and handsome face etched in pensive lines as he stared down at her. “Three died. If there were four, then one survived.”
She focused on the feeling she’d had when she had been making out with Esher in the shadows. At first, it had felt like one bad spirit, but then she remembered it breaking apart, and that was when she had alerted Esher.
Because there had been three of them.
“Three.” She was sure of it now.
Above them, sirens rang out, muffled through the layers of concrete.
“Time to leave.” Keras looked at his brothers. “Marek and I will finish up here. It won’t take long to make the survivors believe there was a gas leak that caused the explosions.”
They could do that?
Aiko looked at the room, and she supposed it wasn’t that much of a leap. It was wrecked, the floor torn up in a way that made it appear as if a gas main had burst.
The lightning and air spirit disappeared, leaving shimmering black smoke behind. Ares dragged Megan onto her feet, ignoring her protest as she tried to reach another person to help them, and disappeared with her.
“Daimon, go with Esher. Make sure he is alright.” Keras looked to the white-haired one, and the man nodded.
Because Esher was injured?
Or because he had lost control?
Keras slapped a hand down on Esher’s shoulder. “Everyone is fine.”
Esher nodded, but didn’t look convinced.
“But the people.” Aiko tried to pull towards them as a few of them moaned, and one cried out for help. It could take hours for the authorities to break through the rubble closing the entrance and reach them. They might die if she didn’t help them.
Esher turned cold eyes on them, his tone empty. “We’ve done all we can.”
He pulled her against him and the world spun around her, fading to black. Colours emerged, streaking through the darkness, and her head kept on spinning as Esher’s house appeared around her.
He kept hold of her as Daimon appeared.
The first thing Daimon said was, “Everyone is fine.”
Esher dragged a hand over his messy black hair and nodded, and she felt cold as he released her, breaking contact and moving away, drifting towards the bathhouse. She watched him go, her insides tied in knots as she tried to decide whether to go after him and help him, or question his brother.
When he disappeared from view, questioning won out, because she needed some answers.
She turned on Daimon. “People were dead. They were hurt. Not everyone was fine.”
Daimon looked over his shoulder towards the bathroom as the water started running.
“To Esher they were.” He sighed and returned his ice-blue gaze to her. “Everyone who mattered was fine. His brothers were fine… and so were you.”
“What about the people?” She didn’t understand. Esher had always been so nice around her, caring and gentle, but tonight he had been different. She had seen the way he had looked at the injured people after he had killed the daemon. He had wanted to hurt them.
She frowned as something dawned on her, and she wasn’t sure how she hadn’t noticed it before.
Esher hated being in a crowd. He seemed happiest when they were alone, somewhere peaceful, away from people. She had thought it was just because he wanted to be alone with her, but now she could see it for what it really was.
He didn’t like people.
He didn’t trust them.
Why?
She looked to Daimon for the answer.
He was quiet for a long time, tensed and still, a statue in black in front of her, the soft long spikes of his white hair dirty and stained with crimson in places, and ash streaking across his pale skin. “You’ve seen his scars? The ones on his back… on his wrists?”
She nodded. There were so many of them. Long silvery lines on his back, and thicker rings of scars on his arms. He looked as if he had fought a thousand battles that had been worse than the one tonight, and the one she had patched him up after on the night they had met.
“Ever wonder where he got them?” Daimon glanced towards the corridor to the bathroom and lowered his voice. “If you need answers, you could start by asking him… because not even I know the full story. Tonight, you were okay, and so were we, but it might be different next time, and you need to know what you’re getting yourself into.”
He disappeared, leaving ribbons of black smoke behind, before she could ask him what that meant, giving her no choice but to ask Esher instead.
She hesitated, a touch of fear trickling through her. Esher hadn’t liked it when she had looked at his scars. How would he react if she asked about them?
She had wanted to more than once, needed to know the story behind them, because she felt sure knowing was vital if she was going to move closer to him, as close as she wanted to be.
She pulled down a steadying breath.
She didn’t want to hurt him, but she needed to know.
She needed to know what had happened to him to make him so unfeeling towards humans, because gods were meant to protect them, not despise them.
Aiko kicked off her shoes, and bravely strode forwards, following the trail of ashy boot prints that led to the bathhouse.
She found Esher to the left, where a series of shower stalls were set into a stone wall. He stood beneath the spray, his head bent as he leaned with his hands against the white tiles, the water cascading over his black hair, down the tensed muscles of his bare back and over the contours of his bottom.
He didn’t seem to notice her as she stripped down to her underwear, or as she stepped into the cubicle behind him.
He kept standing there, with his head under the water, letting it run over him as if it would carry everything that was bothering him away.
Aiko touched his back, feathering her fingers along the most vicious of the scars, one that started in a thick circle below his left ribs and darted up towards his right shoulder, growing thinner as it went.
He didn’t tense as expected or turn to rail at her and make her stop.
“How did you get these?” she whispered, voice trembling as badly as her fingers.
He let out a long sigh. “What did Daimon tell you?”
“Nothing.” She stroked a smaller, thinner scar that arced over his spine. “He told me to ask you.”
He stood silent as she explored him, charted more scars and then her eyes drifted to the ones around his arms, the ones she had wanted to know about from the moment she had met him. She wanted to reach for him, to caress them and ask him about them in particular, but he started to tremble as his hands tensed against the tiles, fingers pressing in as if he needed to grip them to keep himself upright.
To stop himself from falling.
Her heart ached for him, chest growing tight as she felt his struggle, his immense pain.
He slowly turned his head towards her, and that ache deepened as his blue eyes met hers. They were as deep as the ocean, as blue as the sky, but there was a threat of a storm in them, and a touch of crimson.
He shifted towards her, claimed her cheeks with his palms, and stared down into her eyes. Water rolled down the long black lengths of his hair, but when it dripped, it hung in the air, suspended between them as he shook.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he croaked, and tears filled his eyes, tearing at her. “But I’m not… and I haven’t been for a long time.”