Warrior's Hope (Dark Protectors #16)

An overlarge Santa bobbed and ducked in the determined wind, taking Paxton back to a Christmas when he’d been about five years old, playing with LEGOs given to him by Hope’s mom. His father had loomed over him, drunk and high, and had kicked the LEGOs across the room before turning his fists on Pax.

He shivered and wrenched himself out of the past. It was over. Sometimes the nightmares took him, and even now, he couldn’t help but search for threats around him, hoping his imagination didn’t add any to the count.

His pose was casual, but he could spring into action in a moment. Although it probably wouldn’t matter, considering there were snipers on two rooftops and at least one he could sense in the trees. The heightened security was no doubt because of him, but it was rare that Hope went anywhere, even in Realm territory, without being covered by at least two soldiers.

He actually liked that fact; it helped him to sleep better at night when the nightmares weren’t plaguing him. There was no doubt in his mind that the Kurjans would make a move to take her, and the security in place made it nearly impossible to reach her.

Although he’d always thought he’d be the one standing in front of her. At the end of the current day, Henric would probably blow off his head. It was a risk he had to take.

She walked out of the building flanked by Liam and Collin. That was good. Libby trailed behind her, chattering with Derrick, who was forming plasma balls and tossing them back and forth between his bare hands. The second he caught sight of Paxton, he winged one his way.

Pax stepped easily out of the line of fire and partially turned to watch as the small golf ball–sized orb crashed harmlessly into a snowbank and heated its way through until sputtering out.

While his bet had been that Liam would lose his temper and rush him, he hadn’t expected Derrick to duck out from behind Hope and run full bore at him. Interesting. Derrick was young at about twenty-two, but as a demon-vampire hybrid, he was quick.

Paxton set his stance and absorbed the impact, ducked his shoulders, and threw the heavily muscled male into the recesses of the forest. The kid hit a tree, and the tall spruce came down. Pax grinned. He had purposely aimed for the tree with the sniper, who yelled as he landed on his back. The guy was up instantly with his weapon pointed at Pax, who turned around to face Hope.

“Anybody else?” he asked, sounding bored. He actually wouldn’t mind a good fight, but hurting one of her team would just piss her off, and right now he needed her cooperation.

Liam’s chin dropped as if he were going to charge.

“No,” Hope said softly, her laptop bag over her shoulder. “Everybody just stop. Paxton, what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he said.

“Absolutely not,” Liam exploded, predictably.

Libby walked around and marched right up to him, ignoring Collin’s hand on her arm.

When she reached him, her eyes were blazing. “What are you up to?” She put both hands on her hips.

He wished he could tell her. Instead, he stared down at one of his oldest friends. Libby had grown to be about five foot eight, with tawny brown hair and usually mellow brown eyes. She was fit and compact like a shifter, and she could go from human to feline in a second. The anger in her eyes dug deep into his heart, making it ache.

“Libby, I need to talk to Hope,” he said, trying to keep his voice gentle.

She punched him then, full-on in the gut. He took it, not tightening his abs. Oh, he could have stopped her, and they both knew it, but he figured she deserved one good hit.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“No,” she spat, looking like she wanted to stomp on his foot. In fact, knowing Libby, she would. Derrick lumbered out of the woods, snow falling from his head. His growl held menace as he stood next to Libby in a defensive position.

Hope sighed and moved toward Pax. “Everybody carry out your assignments. We all have work to do today. We’ll meet up again at five.”

“I’m not leaving you with him.” Collin instantly tried to put himself in front of her.

Every muscle in Paxton’s body tightened, preparing to attack. Yet he kept his stance relaxed. “Get out of my way,” he said, unable to help himself.

“Oh, I’m not leaving her with you,” Collin sputtered.

Pax didn’t lift even an eyebrow but cut his gaze to Hope and then back. “You are, or you’re going to leave bleeding. I suggest you move now.”

Only Hope’s sharp calling of Collin’s name stopped him. “You guys, I mean it. Everybody to work. I’ve got this,” she said, exasperation evident in her voice.

Liam checked out the snipers on the nearby rooftops, not bothering to hide the direction of his gaze. “All right,” he called out. “Feel free to shoot the asshole. We’re okay with it. Come on, D.” He slung an arm around his cousin’s snow-covered shoulders. “Hope can handle herself.”

The team unwillingly stomped off toward Realm headquarters in vampire territory.

“Was any of that necessary?” Hope asked.

At least today she was wearing a heavier jacket. It was white and puffy and matched the mittens on her hands. He was gratified to see that she wore heavy boots as well. Oh, he had no doubt it irritated her because she wanted to be as tough as the other warriors, but she wasn’t, and she needed to stay warm. Even now, her nose was pink, and her lips were turning blue.

“What do you want, Paxton?” she demanded.

“I want to know why you look exhausted and your arm still is in a cast.” He didn’t like that there was only one arm showing; the other one must have been against her body. He could smell the plaster, actual plaster, like for a human fracture. “You should take blood and just heal it.”

“That concoction is still in my blood,” she admitted. “I dropped by Emma’s lab first thing this morning.”

He took in the dark circles beneath her stunning eyes. Eyes shouldn’t be violet, but hers were. “You look tired.”

“Gee, thanks.” She turned to walk toward Realm headquarters.

“Let’s go by the lake.” He captured her hand and felt the snipers settle into firing positions.

She looked down at his hand enfolding hers over the mitten. “What are you doing?”

“We used to hold hands all the time.”

She sighed and tugged a small photo album from her bag. “This is yours. We found it when searching the stuff in storage that your father left behind.” She handed over a thin blue book.

He stilled, then opened it to see a picture of his mother smiling at the camera with him on her lap. She’d been so beautiful. As a pure demon, she had white hair and black eyes, and she held him as if he mattered, tucking him close. There were three photos of the two of them, and she’d titled them: Our New Life, On to an Adventure, and The Two of Us. Pax’s heart ached.

Hope tightened her hold on his hand. “She loved you. A lot.”

“New Life?” Was it possible she’d been trying to leave the asshole? Maybe. Pax wondered what might’ve been. A hard rock in his gut started to unfold. He hadn’t even realized it was there. Leave it to Hope to help him, even when she was angry with him. “Thank you for this.” He secured the little book in his back pocket.