Darkness Arisen

chapter Five



Alice's heart began to race as she saw Ian dive through the waves in pursuit of her, his powerful body breaking through the whitecaps with minimal effort. Just like before, the mere anticipation of his nearness sent waves of awareness and desire rushing through her...along with a sense of danger.

He was too determined, and the look on Ry's face was too arrogant as he followed Ian through the waves. She didn't know what they wanted from her, but she knew she couldn't afford it.

She quickly turned her back on them and moved to the edge of the rock, scanning the surface of the ocean for the bumps that were too sleek and too misty to be natural. The pearl was secure in her pocket, still hidden there despite all that had happened since she'd thrown herself into the water.

The Mageaan had known she was in the ocean. They'd tried to kill her, which meant they were nearby, or they had been at least. Were they still around? Trying to ignore the sound of Ian getting closer to her, Alice inched toward the edge of the rock.

She quickly unzipped her pocket and removed the pearl. Glittering streaks of red, orange, crimson, and silver sliced across its surface, like the clouds at sunset on the eve of a hurricane. "Please let this work," she whispered. It was such a risk to reveal that she had the pearl. To give it away was to surrender the one safeguard she had against an eternity of hell, against the future that Ian seemed to be pushing her towards.

But without the help of the creatures in the water below, she had no chance to find Catherine. The Mageaan owned the oceans. They knew everything and everyone that passed through their waters. They would know where Catherine was, but they would never reveal it to an outsider. Not to someone who represented all they had lost…unless she had something to offer them that was more than they could resist.

The pearl was that item. She might be able to convince the Mageaan to trade information for the jewel. Of course, once she reached Catherine… A cold chill rippled through her. How would she accomplish that without Flynn? She couldn't manage by herself what needed to be done.

No. She couldn't worry about that now. None of it mattered if she couldn't find Catherine in the first place, and the Mageaan were the only ones who would know how to find the hidden lair that was obscured by magic and spells, so that no one could find it. No one knew where it was except the man who had created it, and those who haunted the ocean.

She carefully held the pearl up between her thumb and index finger so that the moon's blue-green rays seemed to refract through it, bringing it to life. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Ian was almost to the rock, his muscled shoulders churning powerfully through the whitecaps as he neared.

Alice quickly extended her hand out over the ocean. It was risky, exposing it like that, but she was over a hundred feet above the water. The Mageaan were ocean-bound, and they would not be able to steal it from her up here. "I have one of the Pearls of Lycanth," she shouted. "I will trade it for your help!" The wind seemed to strip the words from her mouth and thrust them out across the water, reverberating again and again. "You can have it," she yelled, even as fear rippled through her at the idea of giving it up. "I will offer it freely!"

A haunted call sounded across the ocean, making the hairs on her arms stand up. Faint drifts of mist formed on the horizon. Excitement shot through her. Was that the Mageaan? "I have the pearl," she yelled again, holding it out for them to see. "It's genuine. I'll trade it for your help!"

The mist swirled closer and thicker, the water churned more violently, and the wind began to howl. Her hair slashed her cheeks, her clothes snapped in the gusts. On the edges of the wind, Alice thought she heard the sound of a woman screaming. Dozens of women wailing, the kind of shrieks that heralded the coming of a brutal death. Their torment was horrific, the pain of souls being ripped apart for an eternity of suffering.

She froze, horrified by the sound. What was that? Was that the Mageaan? If it was, it was so much worse than she'd expected. She'd heard the stories. She'd been warned a thousand times. But there had been no way to comprehend the depths of such suffering. The edge to their screams was like a blade shredding the night. Was that her future? Was that what she would become without the pearl to protect her?

Real terror rippled through her. I can't do this. Her hand faltered, and she started to lower it—

A violent gust of wind slammed into her shoulders from behind, thrusting her forward off the edge of the rock. She screamed as she was thrust into the air, and then the wind tore the pearl from her grasp. "No!"

Anguish tore through her as she lunged for it, but her hand closed on empty air as the pearl plummeted down toward the water, the wind howling in triumph, as if the Mageaan themselves had compelled it to help them. Beneath her swelled the mist, but it was no longer white. It was a seething, frothing purple and black pool of poison—

"Hey!" A hand clamped around her wrist, jerking her backwards.

Alice gasped as she ricocheted back against the side of the rock, her body slamming into hard granite, suspended above the tumultuous ocean by one arm. She looked up, and her heart stuttered when she saw Ian down on one knee on the top of the rock, his fingers locked around her wrist. "No, no!" She tugged at her arm. "Let me go! I have to get the pearl! I dropped it in the water!" Frantic, she kicked at the rock, trying to tear herself out of his grasp.

"Hey!" He tightened his grip, ocean water streaming down his arm over his hand. "A pearl? You're serious? You'll never find a pearl down there. That ocean is trying to kill you."

"I don't care! Let me go!" Without the pearl, she had nothing: no future for herself and no way to find Catherine. "I have to get it!" Frantic, she twisted around to search the frothing depths, but her heart sank when she saw the ocean churning beneath her. Hate-filled green and purple swells were fighting to get to her, to reclaim the victim they'd lost once. Deadly mist swirled over the surface of the water.

She couldn't survive that. There was no way she could reclaim her pearl from that. Despair coursed through her, utter despair. It was gone. Without it, Catherine was lost to her. One moment of fear and hesitation for her own stupid life, and she'd lost her chance. Frustration and guilt burned through Alice, and all the fight drained from her body. She hung limply from Ian's grasp, the cold wet rock pressing against her as she dangled over her death. This couldn't happen again. She couldn't fail again.

"Alice." Ian's voice was low. Impatient. "Look at me."

She pulled her gaze from the ocean and looked up, compelled by the urgency in his voice. The moment she met his intense gaze, awareness coursed through her. Awareness of the man, of herself, of something more personal than it should have been. Fear rippled through her, fear of the warrior who held her wrist.

"I've never met someone more likely to die than I am," he said conversationally, as if he weren't the only thing standing between her and a nightmare. "It's damned inconvenient."

She met his gaze, her jaw jutting out. "I'm not afraid of death."

"No, I can see that." One eyebrow was raised, but his eyes were cool and calculating. Water was streaming down his arm over hers, but his grip was tight and secure. "What is it that you are afraid of, Alice?"

What was she afraid of? Unbidden, the memory flashed into her mind. Her mother, blood pouring from a wound in her chest, laboring to breathe. Her mother's blond hair matted with blood and dirt, her bright blue eyes glazed over with the onset of death, her lips parted as she fought to share those last words while Alice sat there, inches away, unable to do the one simple thing that would have saved her life—

Ian's gaze sharpened. Who is that in your mind, sheva? Who died like that? His voice was soft and gentle, reaching deep into her soul, tearing away at the protective shields that enabled her to get through her life every day.

She quickly stiffened, and shook her head. "Leave me alone."

Ian's eyes narrowed. "Maybe you should save that request for after I pull you back up."

Alice grimaced, and glanced down, the sea was still churning beneath her. Waves splashed up, reaching for her ankles. Instinctively, she pulled her feet up, bracing them against the rock. "You have a point."

"As I thought." Ian grinned and braced himself on the rock. "Ready?"

She met his gaze, fighting not to be swallowed up by his piercing stare. "Ready." She dug her toes into the rock.

"On three." He cocked an eyebrow. "One." He held his other hand out to her.

After a split second of hesitation, she reached up and took his hand. His grip was strong around her wrists. Damn, the man was powerful. How was that fair? He could probably take down the world, and she, an angel of life, couldn't save even a single person, no matter how simple a task it would be to help them.

He braced himself. "Two."

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, and electricity jumped between them. Dammit. Why hadn't things lessened between them? Why was he still affecting her like this?

"Three." He gave a curt nod and pulled.

She pushed off the rock as he shifted his body, easily swinging her to the top. Her bare feet landed silently on the gritty surface, her toes tiny and pale next to the heavy boots he was still wearing. "Swimming's easier without boots," she said, trying to put distance between them.

He shrugged. "I was in a rush. You were getting away."

There was that sense of being hunted by him again. Alice instinctively pulled out of his grasp. "What do you want from me?"

Ian went still for a moment, and his gaze bore down on her. She felt pressure in her mind as he tried to break past her barriers, connecting with her too intimately. She stiffened immediately and folded her arms over her chest, raising her chin as she faced him, fighting against the swirl of emotion he aroused in her. "You're not stalking me because of the soul mate thing, are you? Because I'm not yours—"

"Yes, you are." His response was instant and unyielding, and she felt her pulse quicken in response.

She couldn't afford to belong to him. She didn't want to crave him so badly that she felt like her own soul would burst into violent flames if he walked away from her…but she did. It was like he'd ignited a raging fire within her, one that he stoked ever higher with each touch, with each word, with each kiss.

And as a smug grin spread over his face, she knew that he was well aware of exactly how he affected her.

"Damn you, Ian," she snapped.

He grinned more broadly, and she suddenly realized that she'd just laid down a challenge that he was delighted to accept. And even scarier was the realization that she didn't want him to be dissuaded from pursuing her.

Oh, God. What was she getting into? "Who are you, Ian? Why are you after me?"

He held up his index finger to silence her questions. "Warwick Cardiff."

Alice froze at the name, and her skin turned to ice. She took a step backwards, frantically looking around her for some sort of defense. There was nothing. She had nothing. She—

"Hey." He caught her arm, and she yelped, jumping out of his grasp. He instantly held out his hands in a show of peace, but at the same time, she felt the intensity of his readiness to grab her if she got out of range. "It's okay. I save you, remember? I don't hurt you."

"Not yet." She eased around the top of the rock, keeping to the edge. "Are you with Warwick? Do you work for him?"

"No." His voice was hard. Triumphant. As if her reaction to that name had confirmed his suspicions. "Do you?"

"Me?" She almost laughed at the absurdity of it. "He's a ruthless bastard who has my sister—" She immediately cut herself off. She couldn't afford to reveal anything that could get them in trouble. As an angel, she was allowed to have no loyalties, and she had to protect all secrets about angels. And yet, she kept spilling those tidbits to him? Why? She didn't understand, but it wasn't good.

His eyes narrowed. "Catherine? Catherine Taylor?"

She stared at him, fear ripping through her. "How do you know her name?"

He gave a sigh of impatience. "Don't you remember anything you told me before you died? I thought that your name was Catherine because when you died the first time, you had Catherine's ID in your wallet. Last time we met, you told me that Catherine was your sister, and your name was Alice Shaw. You were the one who died the first time, not Catherine, even though you had her ID. You don't remember all that?"

Alice grimaced. "No." When had she told him Catherine was her sister? Why? She reserved that lie for people who were too close to the truth, and for her own private moments of fantasy. What did he know? Frustrated, she shoved her wet hair out of her face. Why couldn't she remember? How much time had she spent with this man? All she recalled were the flashes of passion, of intense desire, of a connection so strong that it terrified her.

"What do you know about him?" Ian didn't move, but he was watching her with raw intensity.

Alice squeezed the water out of the ends of her hair, the strong wind chilly. "Why? Why do you care about him?" Anything having to do with Warwick was dangerous. Was the wizard why Ian had been hunting her? She felt like her world was spiraling out of control, and she was fighting desperately for balance. And the pearl, God, the pearl. Did the Mageaan have it?

"Because he cursed my family," Ian said. "It's time for the curse to end. I need to find him to make it happen."

Alice sensed the urgency in his voice, the desperation in his eyes. For a split second, her shields fell, and his emotions came tumbling over her. Grief, despair, guilt, and intense determination. Recognition pulsed through her, and she touched his arm briefly. It was exactly how she felt, every minute of every day. "I need to find him to save my sister." Again the lie about Catherine's true identity. If she'd chosen to lie to him the first time, she must have had a reason. "Cardiff has her."

Anticipation gleamed in his eyes. "Any leads?"

"Some." Alice instinctively glanced over her shoulder where her pearl had disappeared. "Warwick's lands are on an island in the ocean. It's protected by magic, and it's impossible to find, unless you know where it is."

Ian's eyes narrowed as he looked out across the waters. "A hidden island," he murmured thoughtfully. "That explains why I was never able to find it." He glanced at her, his gaze so sharp she could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. "You've found it?"

She shook her head. "No, not quite. Have you heard of the Mageaan?"

Ian shook his head. "No. Who are they?"

"Fallen angels sentenced to an eternity of suffering in the oceans. Over time, they lose their humanity, both their souls and their physical bodies, until they are mere ghosts, bound to the ocean."

He raised his brows. "Weird that I've never heard of them."

"Angels like to keep secrets," she said. "The Mageaan own the oceans, and they know everything that goes on. But they are vile and hateful and will help no one unless it's to their benefit." She hesitated, and then decided not to tell him about the pearl. No one could know about it. "I had something they might be willing to trade for, but I lost it."

"The pearl."

She felt the blood drain from her face. "What pearl?" she hedged.

Ian laughed softly. "Sweetheart, you have to start keeping track of what you tell me during moments of stress. You were shouting about it when I kept you from plummeting to your death about two minutes ago." He raised his brows. "I'm one of those guys who actually listens when his woman talks. I'm a rare breed. Dangerous, apparently, since you aren't expecting me to hear you."

She would have laughed at his humor, which she had to admit was sort of appealing, except she was entirely too strung-out to find amusement in the situation. He might know she'd lost a pearl, but he had no way of knowing it was the pearl of Lycanth. "Okay, yes, it's a pearl. An old one that was reportedly stolen from their treasures a thousand years ago. It has no value, except to them." A partial truth, enough to be able to look him in the eye while saying it, but obscure enough to hide the secrets he couldn't know. "But I dropped it in the water. That was my last chance."

Ian cupped her face, his fingers tantalizingly soft against her damp skin. "Alice, there's always another chance."

She met his gaze then, his intense, powerful gaze, and she realized what he was saying. "You? You'll help me?"

"We'll help each other." He edged forward, crowding her space, and he didn't stop until his chest was almost against hers, forcing her to crane her neck to look at him, or else step back. "We both want to find him. I can help you. You help me. The slippery bastard's days of hiding are over."

"I have to find him." It was difficult to breathe with Ian so close. She didn't step back, but her heart started to race. There was no mistaking Ian's intense strength and determination. He was even more powerful than Flynn, who was the backup she'd been counting on when they finally found Warwick's lands. But... "You're dangerous to me," she whispered.

"Am I?" A grim smile flitted across Ian's hard features. "And you're my doom, in too many ways. But I'm willing to take the risk. Are you?"

She stood taller at the challenge in his voice and lifted her chin. Fear burned through her, but deeper still was her need to help Catherine. To end the nightmares that had been haunting her for years. If he could do that... "When we find him, will you help me...save...Catherine?" 'Save' was a close enough word to what she needed to do when she found Catherine, and it would appeal to his Order of the Blade oath to protect.

Because it wasn't enough to simply find Warwick's island. She needed Ian for that final step, the one she couldn't do by herself, no matter how badly she wanted to.

Ian narrowed his eyes for a split second. "I swore an oath to the Order to put its mission first over all others, no matter what the cost," he said. "I will help your sister if I can, but not if it conflicts with what I'm sworn to protect."

"What?" She stared at him. Hello? Hadn't she just offered him something to protect? "What kind of answer is that?"

"The Order of the Blade is an elite team created two thousand years ago to protect innocents from rogue Calydons. We are not allowed to sacrifice ourselves to protect others, because without us, there is no way to stop them. The greater good triumphs."

She gazed at him in dismay. "You would let an innocent die to save yourself?"

"I would let an innocent die if it was the only way to save a thousand others." Flint glittered in his eyes. "It's what I have to do, Alice." He raised his brows. "If you're an angel, you, of anyone, should understand about the greater good. Isn't that what angels are all about?"

She swallowed and looked away for a split second. "Yeah, sure, the greater good," she agreed. "That's what I do every day. Save the world." She couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of her voice, and she grimaced when she saw the flicker of interest on Ian's face. She immediately faced him again and raised her chin. "Promise me you will help me with Catherine," she said.

"I don't make promises unless I know I can keep them," he said. "I don't know what I'll find at his place, but if there's any way at all that I can save her, I will." He met her gaze. "My promise is that I will do my absolute best to save your sister. If there is a way to do it without violating my oath, I will find it and do it. I promise you my best, and trust me, that's a damn good offer. Deal?"

Alice grimaced, shifting under his stare. Did she really dare align herself with a man who was too smart to trap himself with a simple promise? A man who unsettled her far too deeply? A man she couldn't get out of her mind? A man who had saved her life twice in the last ten minutes? A man who claimed her for his own, threatening to strip her of everything she was?

She thought of her mother dying in her arms, and she knew the answer was yes. Absolutely, unequivocally, without a doubt, yes. Anything to keep the past from happening again. She met his gaze. "It's a deal."

* * *

Relief poured through Ian at Alice's acquiescence. She was on his team. Hot damn. She was the first person he'd come across in years who had helpful information about the elusive wizard who had cursed his family. She was the break he needed.

But at the same time, dark foreboding settled around him. A Calydon's sheva spelled doom for both parties even under the best of circumstances, and for Ian, his soul mate was the key to an even darker fate.

Every withdrawal by Alice, every time death tried to take her again, every moment that his mark failed to appear on her arm...it was a constant, inexorable slide from sanity to suicidal madness.

It couldn't stay like this.

Alice's expression grew wary. "What is it?" She glanced over her shoulder, as if looking for something to defend herself against him.

"No. Don't retreat." He closed the distance between them in two steps, forcing himself to stop when she leaped back. Anguish tore through him as his sheva distanced herself from him again. Son of a bitch. How had he managed to get the one sheva in history that was so damn resistant to her mate? It shouldn't be possible, but it was.

Damn that curse. It knew what it was doing by selecting Alice for him.

Alice pulled back, inching so close to the edge of the rock, Ian knew she was considering jumping.

"Stop." Forcing himself to hold back, he raised his palms in a gesture of peace. "Don't retreat. Stay where you are."

She stopped, and then frowned at him. "Are you in pain?"

"I'm fine." He took a deep breath, fighting not to scare her into bolting. As a Calydon, it was etched in the very marrow of his being to claim his woman, not to stand back and give her space. What he was trying to do now was against his nature on so many levels, and with the addition of the curse, it was hell. The need to lock her down was fierce. If he could just get his brand on her arm, it would help. But without it, she was still an elusive enigma, able to flutter out of his life without a moment of hesitation. "If we are going to work together," he said, keeping his voice contained, "there's one thing that is going to have to change."

She stiffened. "What's that?"

"Your response to me." There was no point in hiding it. It was what it was, and he was too seasoned of a warrior not to know when a threat could not be ignored.

Her mouth tightened, but a faint flush rose on her cheeks, sending heat spiraling through his body. "What do you mean?"

"My destiny," he said quietly, "is to find the woman who touches my soul, and then I have to lose her."

"Yes, you told me." She swallowed, but he saw empathy flash in her eyes. "I know what that's like, to lose someone," she said, her voice softening. "That's awful."

He nodded and inched closer, his entire soul screaming to connect with her. "The curse makes the loss so powerful that it's impossible to withstand. Suicide is the only way out."

Alice stared at him. "Suicide?" She glanced at the brand on his forearm and then back at his face. "But you're an immortal warrior. I don't understand. How could anything affect you that strongly?"

"Apparently, I'm a sensitive guy. You didn't notice that about me right away?" He moved closer, carefully, slowly encroaching on her space. "I cry at chick flicks and weddings."

The smallest hint of a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Do you now? Why do I find that hard to believe?"

"Just because I'm a badass warrior who is a critical part of the Order of the Blade team, and I spend my days saving the world and killing rogue Calydons, you think I don't have a sensitive side?" Another step, and he was close enough to catch her scent, even though the wind was blowing it in the other direction. She smelled like salt and brine from the ocean, but beneath that was the hint of something fresh and exotic, something pure, like a lily on a spring breeze.

She cocked her head, and he was pleased to see a thoughtful expression on her face. No longer fear or distrust. No longer trying to shut him out. She was analyzing him now, and that was a hell of a lot better than fearing him. "Do you really?" she asked, as if she wasn't quite sure what to believe. "I mean, do you really have a sensitive side? I believe you about the killing bad guys." She met his gaze. "That's why I agreed to team up with you."

He didn't have to feign the look of agony. "That's the reason? It had nothing at all to do with the scorching flames searing the air every time we get close to each other? It wasn't because your soul burns for me and you can't take one more minute without my lips against yours, and my soul entwined with yours?"

Her eyes widened. "No, definitely not that."

"Shit. I don't get how you're so immune to my charms. I'm generally considered a ladies' man, you know." He reached out ever so gently and encircled her wrists lightly with his fingers. She stiffened, but when he didn't tighten his grip, she didn't pull away. "The first time I met you, I was with my teammate, Elijah," he said. "Do you remember?"

"No…" She let the word trail off, as if she wasn't sure what she knew and what she didn't. She cocked her head, and he saw curiosity flare in her eyes, making him realize that she truly did not recognize him or remember what had happened.

Urgency coursed through him. He needed her to remember. The fact he wasn't imprinted in her mind or her soul was brutal, against the laws of what bound them. "We were tracking Cardiff," he said.

Her eyes widened. "You found him?"

He shook his head. "I was following a lead. We were in the mountains of southeast Washington, closing hard when I heard a scream from the heavens."

"The heavens?" She rolled her eyes, in a decidedly human reaction that was pretty damn cute. "Isn't that a little dramatic?"

He raised his brows. "So, now you're calling me a drama queen?"

She burst out laughing. "It hadn't occurred to me, but hey, if that's your claim to fame, it's all yours."

He grinned, loving the sound of her laughter. "I looked up to the heavens, as I said. Know what I saw?"

"Butterflies? Clouds shaped like hearts?"

"Almost." He tightened his grip on her wrist. "A woman had just tumbled off the edge of a cliff at least two hundred feet above my head, and she was plummeting straight down to certain death on the rocks below." He swore, remembering his shock at seeing a woman catapulting through the air in such a barren place. He could still vividly recall that moment when he saw her: auburn hair streaming out behind her, hands hopelessly outstretched, as if she were reaching for some salvation he couldn’t see, the look of shock on her face as she tumbled down toward him. The moment when his world became only about her. "You were wearing blue jeans, a red tee shirt with a sparkly heart on it, and sneakers. Your outfit was so normal and unpretentious, and not at all fitting in with a woman who would be free-climbing those ledges."

She stared at him. "That's my favorite shirt."

He grinned at the stark surprise on her face, as if until now, she hadn't completely believed in their past. "The world stopped when I saw you," he said. "My entire focus immediately switched off Cardiff to saving you." Never in his life had anything taken his mind off Cardiff, not until he'd seen Alice in her swan dive. "I sprinted over there—"

She held up her hand. "I remember now," she said slowly, as if the memories were still coming. "You leapt up to snatch me out of midair. I must have been fifty feet up when you grabbed me."

Ian grinned. "Couldn't let you hit the ground unattended. It wouldn't be chivalrous." Then his amusement faded as he recalled the rest of it. "We landed," he said softly, searching her face for some flash of recognition. "I stood there with you in my arms in the middle of that mountain range and my entire world shifted. For the first time in my life, I felt the power of the curse. I knew you were my downfall—"

"Whoa." She jerked her hand free. "I remember now. You made some announcement about how I was your sheva and then your friend killed me."

"No!" He grabbed her shoulders before she could pull away. "Listen to me, Alice. Elijah made that move when the Order was run differently, when it was our duty to kill Order shevas before they could kill us—"

"What?" She gaped at him, and it definitely wasn't with love and adoration. "You guys kill your soul mates as a regular thing?"

"We used to. Not so much anymore." At her disbelieving stare, he realized he really wasn't playing the smooth Casanova role well. Shit. "Try this." He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his chest. "Close your eyes, Alice. Feel what I felt that day when you died in my arms."

"I don't want—"

He narrowed his eyes. "If you want to save your sister, then you need to do it."

Alice bit her lip, but she finally stopped fighting. Her fingers were petite and too fragile against his chest. An overwhelming sense of protectiveness swelled inside him, and he pinned her hand beneath his. "Stop fighting me," he said, opening himself to that moment when Elijah had cut her down.

The despair rolled over him like a thick cloud, the agonizing sense of loss that seemed to strip everything else from his mind. He remembered her gasp of shock, and the way she'd reached for him as life had bled from her body. The agony of losing this woman he didn't know. The guilt and shame of being unable to protect her.

Alice sucked in her breath, and her fingers dug into his chest. He realized immediately that she was experiencing his loss, understanding the truth of the words he was speaking.

"Elijah should never have been able to strike before I realized he was coming," he told her. "But I was so consumed by you, and the curse was already working. Every instinct I've honed for the last six hundred years vanished. You were all I saw, until it was too late."

She pulled her hand away, and folded her arms across her chest, hunching her shoulders, as if trying to ward off the taint of his emotions. The intimacy had made her uncomfortable, he could see that, and tension hummed through him. He needed to bond with her, and yet all she did was create distance.

"Every time you die, the curse comes back," he said. "Every time you shut me out, the curse gains strength. You can't do that to me if we have any chance of making it out of this thing alive."

"Shut you out? What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what you think it means." He moved closer, taking her wrist again. "I can deal with only so much loss when it comes to you," he said softly.

"Me? But I'm—"

"You're my soul mate, and the fact you don't carry my marks doesn't change that. From now on, you don't get to die."

She shook her head. "There's no way to stop it," she said. "Cardiff killed me with a black magic spell. I'm almost impossible to kill, so I keep coming back to life, but each time it gets harder. It's just a matter of time until death finally keeps me and I can't revive. I'm going to keep dying until I finally stay dead—"

"No!" He yanked her against him, and she tumbled into his chest, slamming against his hard body. "You can't die again," he said. "You won't have to come back from death again, because I won't let you die."

Hope flashed across her face for a split second, but was immediately shoved aside by grim reality. "There's nothing you can do, Ian. I'm already dead—"

"Hell, Alice," he interrupted, cutting her off. "All you have to do is talk like that, and it nearly does me in. You make me tread so f*cking close to the edge." He lowered his voice, his words like daggers through her chest while his hand locked around her hips. "You scare the living hell out of me, Alice, and I can't let you destroy me."

She braced her hands against his chest, pushing against him, trying to put space between them, but he didn't give her even an inch. "I wouldn't destroy you."

"You would, and you will." He bent his head, until his mouth was only a breath from hers. "No more walls between us, Alice. I can't take it."

He felt her sudden understanding of what he wanted, and the cold chill of raw fear. "You want sex? Emotions? All that?" At his nod, she shook her head violently. "Dear God," she whispered. "Not that. I can't—"

"You can." And then, before she could stop him, before she could twist away from him, before she could fight her own desires, he claimed her with a kiss meant to sear her very soul.