CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Lexi stumbled for the fifth time in the last hour, landing hard in a two-foot-thick snowdrift and cracking her knee against a hidden log. Swearing loudly in the gathering darkness, she used a nearby tree to get to her feet. She rubbed the spot, and swore once again when she realized not only was she bleeding, but her jeans were now ripped. Leaning back against the tree, she pulled her pack off and dropped it beside her. She leaned her head against the trunk and closed her eyes, taking her weight from her leg.
What the fuck had she been thinking? She had never spoken to Layla like that before. They had arguments, it was natural—they were twins. But she had never been cruel, never like that. So what if she was sleeping with that demon? She was an adult, she could sleep with whomever she liked. It had been almost as if someone else had been talking through her. The words had come out of her mouth. She had said them, she remembered, but she could not remember why she had been so angry to have said them in the first place.
She opened her eyes and looked around at the growing darkness. Once again, she cursed herself for forgetting her damn flashlight. How could she have forgotten such a crucial thing? She had been so angry that she forgot one of the most important pieces of equipment for moving around the forest even during the day. Now it was getting dark, the light was fading fast, and she was no closer to the old hunting cabin she knew to be on the family property.
Not only had she forgotten the damned flashlight, but she had clearly lost her damn way. Today was not going well at all. Arguing with her sister, losing her mind, now getting lost in a forest she knew like the back of her hand—perfect, just fucking perfect.
Picking up her pack again, Lexi slung it over her shoulder and moved to take a step. Pain shot up her leg from her knee, and it almost buckled under her weight. Biting down on her bottom lip she swallowed back the hiss of pain and leaned against the tree again.
Okay, let’s add injured to the list of wonderful additions for today. Lexi literally felt like karma was kicking her ass for what she had said to Layla. Maybe it was. Given she had recently learned the Seven Deadly Sins actually existed in physical form, surely Karma was indeed a bitch, and had chosen her to pick on today.
Dropping the pack again, Lexi limped over to a fallen log. She pulled out her first aid kit from the top of her pack, and managed to open it without spilling the contents all over the forest floor. Gathering some gauze and a bandage, she cleaned the wound as best she could in the encroaching darkness, and used the only antiseptic cream in the kit to cover the cut. Pressing the gauze to the nasty wound, she groaned against the pain and attempted to wrap the bandage around her leg, jeans and all.
A cracking branch in the distance made her head snap in that direction, and her heart jumped. Panic gripped her like a stab to the chest, and her eyes searched desperately for the source of the sound. The silence seemed to stretch. One thing she hated about snowy nights was how quiet they seemed to be, as if the snow stole the sound from the very air.
At times like this she remembered stories her mother used to tell her. On cold nights in wintertime, dark spirits would hunt in the snow, stealing the voices of naughty children that disturbed the silence. They would feed the voices of those children to the spirits of winter, and that was why the snow always seemed to steal the sound from the air.
She used to think it all to be make-believe, but now with demons and curses, angels and shapeshifters, hell, anything could be true. Just as her heartbeat returned to normal, another cracking branch echoed through the darkness. This time it sounded much closer. Was that just a figment of her imagination?
“Who’s there?” Her very voice seemed stolen from the air and panic gripped her again. God, what in the hell was wrong with her? She was not some timid female to run when a branch snapped in the night. She was a fighter, and no one was going to chase her from her mountain.
She grabbed a fallen branch and stood, using the tree trunk to hide, her wound forgotten in the rush of adrenaline now pounding through her system. Holding the cold damp wood in her hands she waited. If someone was out there she was going to make the bastard regret coming up on her in the darkness.
The tell-tale crunch of footsteps in the snow seemed so loud in the darkness. Lexi tried her best to keep her breathing low, hoping her heartbeat was not as loud as it sounded to her. Tightening her grip on the wood, the damp already seeping into her gloves, she sucked in a deep breath when the footsteps reached the tree. She twisted from behind the trunk, swinging the branch with all her strength, just hoping she hit something and was not letting her mind play tricks on her.
The branch made contact with something and made a thudding sound like a melon. A very masculine voice swore as the sound of a body crashing to the forest floor filled the night, assuring her she was not losing her mind. The tirade of colorful language that then came from the male’s mouth would have made even a seasoned sailor blush, and Lexi was pretty sure some words were not even in English.
She was not going to stick around and find out just how many languages he could swear in. She had just whacked him with a tree branch without even buying him a drink first. Grabbing her bag, she bit down hard on her lip to stop from hissing in pain, and limped off into the darkness. She hoped she’d hit him hard enough to knock him out cold for a while, but not enough to leave permanent damage.
Deus blinked and shook his head. He was pretty sure he had not walked into a low-hanging branch. He should have seen that coming. He had been checking the boundary of the estate, walking the edge to feel the energy of the place and laying his own energy down so he would be able to feel if someone entered his property. It was not like he had expected to find anyone hiding out in the dark. In truth, he felt foolish. He should have been more alert, but this place, this mountain had a calming energy to it, and it made him feel protected. Well that was a crock of shit, wasn’t it?
He sat up and touched the side of his head, wincing at the shot of pain that speared into his brain. He brought his hand down and looked at the sticky blood that covered his fingers. Okay, he had not walked into a branch; someone had been hiding in the dark and used him for target practice. Groaning, he leaned forward and blinked the flashing spots from his vision before he tried to move again.
Unfortunately, the action made his head spin and he frowned. Who the hell had been creeping out here in the damned snow with a weapon? And why would they ambush him in the dark? No way had it been one of the Malakhim. Hit and run was not in their repertoire—they were a stabby, stabby, kill kinda group. His mind began to clear and he cracked his neck. Whoever had hit him had some strength in their arm—any stronger and they could have actually knocked him out.
Slowly getting to his feet he cracked his jaw, ignoring the ringing in his ears. If they believed they could take out a demon with a measly stick, they were in for one hell of a surprise. He sucked in a deep breath. He could smell something iron rich and tingly on his tongue. Blood, female blood.
Aw hell, had he just been felled by a woman? Now he felt like a pushover. Glad none of his brothers would ever find out some woman had bested him with a stick, he stepped over a fallen log and knelt. A dark splash of red stood out against the white of the snow like a beacon. So, she was injured. Well didn’t that just add insult to injury.
An unwound bandage lay forgotten on the snow, blood covering one side. It looked like she had been tending her wound when he happened on her. No wonder she had been skittish; he guessed he could not blame her. Still, he would have preferred not to have been used for batting practice.
Her limping tracks were easy to see in the darkness; it was clear she was trying to get away. He couldn’t let that stand. He was a gentleman after all, and she was a woman out in the forest alone, injured. He had to help, right? The fact he wanted payback for his head being her baseball didn’t matter, not right now anyway. He could deal with that after he tended to her wound.
Deus followed easily, this time keeping himself hidden with the shadows, making sure she would not hear him and mistake him for a softball again. He caught up to her easily and silently observed her making her desperate attempt to flee. The temperature was dropping dramatically now that night had taken hold. The crisp air felt good on his skin as he listened to the sounds of animals stirring around him. Over it all he could hear her panting—each pant was punctuated with a gasp of pain and a low swear word that brought a small smile to his lips. At least she remained in good spirits, despite the cold.
It took him all of five minutes of watching her for his pain-addled brain to catch up as to why she looked familiar to him. As she passed into a clearing, the winter moonlight lit up her face and hair. He felt like he’d just gotten a fist to the gut. This woman was the photographer. Lexi.
He stood dumbfounded, stuck to the spot. The woman whose photos had struck a chord in his soul stood before him like some moon goddess bathed in the iridescent light cast down upon her from heaven. Her hair looked like spun silver in the light, her skin like milk. This delicate-looking creature was the one who had almost taken his head off? He almost doubted himself for a second, but the scent of her blood wiped that doubt away. Yep, she was the one who’d clobbered him.
For the first time in almost a thousand years he felt his stomach burn and his body tighten. If he had not been so enraptured by the moonlight making her skin glitter, he might have been more shocked by the fact his body awoke to the sight of her.
He had no idea how long he stood there looking like an idiot staring at her, but the sound of a female throat being cleared brought him back to reality—and to a pair of thunderstorm eyes glaring at him. When had the shadows left him? Had she stolen so much of his attention that he had lost his control and his power had been thrown to the wind? He might have been more worried about that in any other situation, but she started to talk, and nothing else seemed to matter.
“I guess I didn’t hit you hard enough.” Her voice conveyed just how annoyed she was. If the fact she might actually be able to kill with her gaze didn’t give him a clue, she was feisty—he liked feisty.
“Thank you for that, by the way. Though I am pretty sure I didn’t deserve it. You were on my land after all.” Deus reminded himself not to be a smartass but it was difficult. When her eyes flashed in outrage he just had to pull the tiger’s tail some more.
“Your land? I beg to differ. The Albris own that half of the mountain—”
“I bought it, earlier this week.” Well that shut her up. Though Deus could think of all sorts of ways to shut up that sassy mouth of hers.
“Not a chance. They have lived in this town for generations. They would never sell—”
“Seems the eldest son was tired of country life, inherited the house in the will, or so the realtor told me. I have been looking for somewhere to settle down, and this seemed perfect. Other than random attacks by trespassers who try and kill me.” He tilted his head to the side as she blushed and had the good sense to look at her feet. That wondrous event lasted all of ten seconds.
“Well you shouldn’t have snuck up on me in the dark. Who does that? Seriously?” She actually stood with her hands on her hips and tried to reprimand him for sneaking up on her. She was some kind of woman. Deus had not felt this alive in a long time.
“My land.” That was all he said as he kept his eyes locked to hers. Stubborn wench just started right back at him until she tried to put weight on her leg and it gave way under her.
“God damn it.” He took a step toward her and she put up her hand. “Unless you want me aiming lower than your head I wouldn’t take another step, buddy.”
She didn’t even look at him as she spoke, and it was probably a good thing. She’d just hit him if she saw the smile on his lips at her threat. Deus could not remember the last time a woman had intrigued him as much as this one. Though she looked as gentle as a doe on a spring morning, she had a backbone of pure steel and lightening in those storm blue eyes.
“If I may borrow one of your terms, ‘seriously’? Of the two of us here, you are the one who committed grievous bodily harm. So if anyone should be worried it is me. Now, as I stated, we’re not far from my house. I will even give you a stick to hit me with if it makes you feel better. But I would like to tend that wound before it gets infected. Unless, of course, getting gangrene is on your bucket list, in which case, have-at-it!” He gave her a bright smile which made her lip curl. His blood rushed, his heartbeat skipped, even his skin felt hot. Alive. He felt alive. How long had it been since he’d teased, really teased someone with words, just to rile them up?
When she did not answer right away he shrugged and turned to walk back to his new house, hoping she was not as stubborn as she seemed. Each step seemed like a lifetime, until finally he heard her let out a huge sigh that filled the silence.
“Wait!” The stubborn edge to her voice was like music to his ears. He was having fun, real fun for once. If not for the fact she might freeze to death, he could just continue this word play all night.
A smile curled his lips in the darkness and he stopped, looking back over his shoulder. Good. Being lost in the forest, in winter, with an open wound, and clearly no flashlight was hardly the most intelligent move for anyone. Even someone as stubborn as her.
“Yes?” Okay, so he might have sounded just a little bit too happy.
“I can’t walk without help,” she said through gritted teeth. Deus almost died on the spot. From the short meeting thus far he knew she was as stubborn as his brother Wrath, if not worse, and she didn’t seem to accept help easily. Yep, female version of Wrath.
“Of course.” Turning, he walked toward her and lifting her pack easily onto his shoulder. In one swift movement, he cradled her in his arms, one arm under her knees, the other behind her back. He relished the spluttering outrage as she struggled in his grip, but he refused to let go as he started toward the house.
“Look, woman, it is easier to carry you than limp along with you. Now stop struggling or my hand is going to slip somewhere less than appropriate, and I would rather you didn’t try and fracture my skull again.”
His warning appeared to do the trick. She went stock still and refused to speak or move even an inch, as if terrified he might move his hand on purpose. She did, however, keep throwing him evil glares whenever he tried to adjust her so he could step over a log or move around an obstacle.
Ten minutes of silence and mumbled swear words from her finally stopped. Deus felt her body relaxing. One minute she was tense, and then suddenly her head hit his shoulder. He paused, taking a tentative look down at her face. The tigress had passed out cold in his arms, and was snoring softly against his shoulder. Right then he didn’t know which Lexi he preferred—the fired up, sarcastic feline that threatened him bodily harm, or the soft, fragile-looking woman that now slept cradled in his arms as if she trusted him.
However, he knew that to be an illusion. She was just exhausted, and she would no doubt be back to her normal hissy, spitting self as soon as she woke up. That was good, because a soft, pliant Lexi was far too tempting a morsel for Lust to resist. Sweet and gentle equaled submissive, and to Lust, submissive females were his candy, and he had one hell of a sweet tooth.