Paradise of Shadows and Devotion Page 10

  It was the agonizing hurt of broken trust.

  My life was nothing but a long list of betrayals. I was a fool for believing things could change. For thinking that, perhaps, this time the shadows wouldn’t swallow the small trickle of light I had nursed in my heart.

  “Is Caz even real,” I managed to say, although my words were strangled, “or was it always just you?”

  “He’s real,” he said quietly.

  I blinked away a tear. “Why, Santino? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He ran a hand through his hair, the honed muscles of his body flexing with grace as he took a deep breath, then released it. Slowly. For the first time, I sensed power in the alluring scent of pine and Santino that enveloped me, indicating the dragon within was still lurking dangerously close to the surface.

  “Come back to the house with me and I’ll tell—”

  “No.” I rubbed the shivers from my arms, then crossed them in front of my chest, painfully aware of my nudity. My vulnerability. I was raw and hurting, but I suppressed the rising tide of tears and said, “Tell me now.”

  Santino sucked in a breath—possibly scanning the air for any threats still lingering in the woods—then turned that brilliant, heartbreaking gaze on me. The silver bleeding into the blue was filled with shadows, eerily reminding me of my own darkness that surfaced every time the past rapped on the gates of my mind.

  Those shards of love that still lurked were urging me to touch him, to scatter the glimpses of pain that weighed on his features—and my heart.

  But in the end, I stood my ground.

  “Unlike most of my brethren,” he began, “I don’t like advertising my true nature. The incubus, but even more so the dragon side of me, has attracted too many wrong people in the past. So I distanced myself from it.” Anger touched his eyes, but the tug on his lips bore a haunting resemblance to a sorrowful smile. “When you’ve been around for as long as I have, Liana, the past likes to cling to you like a disease, tainting your future before it even has the chance to grow. Being human—at least a close approximation of it—was safe. Safer.”

  My fingers dug into the sides of my arms. I understood. Probably better than anyone. Yet his need to run away from times long gone was precisely what made this situation that much worse, what had cut open that ravine inside me, destroying the weak, but warm surety that I’d felt. Because we were alike.

  “You don’t know how difficult it was to open up to you, Santino,” I whispered. “I was terrified that telling you I was a Rusalka turned mermaid would drive you away. I mean”—a choked laugh slipped from my lips—“who would want to be with someone like me? I’ve died, came back, killed…”

  Back in the morass, everything about me had been lethal. While I could control my voice, deciding when it was used to lure and destroy, and when the magic stayed dormant, I had no such option where my sexuality was concerned. Any kind of intimacy with a Rusalka was deadly.

  There was no going around it, no way to circumvent the poison such contact forced into the men’s hearts. Even a single kiss had the same damning strength. Disgusted by the death my body, my desire, brought, I held back as much as I could while the others mated freely, leaving nothing but corpses in the wake of their pleasure. A tear rolled down my cheek.

  Not only a predator. A horror. And the world saw us as such.

  “Even when I knew this new form wasn’t the cold killer I’d been shaped to be before, I feared…” I shivered, hating to give this ugliness voice, yet knowing I had to. “I feared I would repulse you, Santino. I was changed and hunted, and yet the thought of you disgusted by who I was—I knew that was the one blow I couldn’t survive.”

  Santino stepped forward, his hand reaching for my cheek.

  “Don’t,” I sobbed and inched back. “Please, don’t.”

  His fingers clenched, but he let his arm fall down to his side. His gaze, however, remained a burning, silver caress that swept across my skin, as loving and fierce as any affection could be.

  Gods, I almost wanted him to be colder. I wanted to hate him for letting me stagger through all that hurt alone while he had held on to his own darkness, the image he had presented only emphasizing my own stain. But the apologetic, tender presence stirred tendrils of forgiveness, whispering to give him a chance.

  “I understand why you hadn’t told me back when I, too, was trying to pass as human,” I confessed. “But after that night at Moon Bay, after I laid myself bare for you…”

  “I wanted to, piccola,” he whispered. “Not at first, not right then, but by the time we walked back to my apartment… Gods, I wanted to.” He groaned, his hand tangling in his hair. “I was a coward, Liana. I was selfish in my desire to keep you by my side. When you opened up to me, trusted me to keep you safe… I am aware of the stories, of the Rusalkas’ fears. What we had was still so fragile, I was afraid that even a glimpse at my true nature would have had you walking out the door. I thought that with time, when you would have…accepted…me, I would be able to reveal everything. And it wouldn’t make you run away.”

  Tears prickled at my eyes, a gentle weight waiting to fall. Santino was right. But only partially.

  I had no doubts I would have been frightened out of my mind if he had told me he was a Perelesnyk that day. With the bloody history our two species shared, he knew that it was more than just a story, fueling my fears. It had become instinct to us, to flee from the one predator we couldn’t hope to best.

  So as reluctant as I was to admit it, I understood his motives. But for all the truth his words carried, they failed to encompass something vital.

  I had already loved Santino then.

  Even if I had been afraid to accept the deeper meaning, passing what I felt for him as some foolish infatuation, I knew with certainty that bond would have overpowered any other emotions that revelation might have stirred.

  But it was futile now, wasn’t it? Neither of us could change the past, and no amount of wishful thinking would erase his actions. Instead of taking a chance, instead of taking that leap of faith I’d made with him, Santino had chosen to lie. He had chosen to let me torment myself as I showed him my wounds, every grim shred of the darkness I was running from…

  We were kindred spirits, hunted and haunted by time that would forever snap at our heels. And Santino decided to bury it.

  He’d made himself out to be some chivalrous human who didn’t balk at threats he was by no means equipped to handle. A bitter laugh spilled from my chest.

  “I can’t believe I worried about you. All this time, I felt guilty for dragging you into this mess—for being so reckless and selfish to risk your life just because you were the one person that made me feel safe. But you never were in any danger, were you?” I shook my head at the fire—and admission—burning in his eyes. “I ran out after you today to protect you, Santino. I didn’t care if I died, I didn’t care about how afraid I was or how terrified the thought of facing all those assassins made me. As long as my actions would keep you alive, whatever fate I was to greet wasn’t important…”

  “Piccola…”

  “Damn you,” I hissed, the tears now rolling freely down my cheeks. “Damn you, Santino, for making me think the bastards had gunned you down while I couldn’t even move from the lake while my tail dried. Damn you for making me rush through the woods, scanning every crumpled, bloodied body, every dead face, and dreading that it would be your dull eyes staring back at me. You have—”

  My voice broke and shivers took hold of my flesh, ravaging and raving until I shuddered so wildly my knees buckled. Santino reached out and drew me into his arms, ensconcing me in the warmth of his presence even as I struggled to break free. But his grip was unyielding. And eventually, I couldn’t hold my ground any longer.

  I sagged into his arms, buried my head against his chest, and sobbed, my tears trailing down his heated skin.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered into the bed of my damp hair as he placed a gentle kiss on my head. “I am so, so s
orry, Liana. I didn’t know—”

  “That I loved you?”

  I met the silver of his gaze, sniffling as I fought back a cry. Santino closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath in Italian, then exhaled. But when he looked at me again, there was a darkness flickering across his features, tinted with a kind of guarded sorrow I couldn’t comprehend.

  “I’ve made many mistakes, Liana—mistakes that will haunt me for the rest of my immortal life. Quite possibly even follow me through the gates of the underworld when the time comes. I meant it when I said second chances are hard to come by, and I feel that in my desire to not let mine slip from my grasp, I held on to it so tightly it shattered.” His fingers caressed my cheek. “Nobody has ever made me feel like you do, piccola. And I should have never deceived you.”

  I trailed the palm of my hand up his arms, then cupped his face, the ghost of a light inside me coming to life and piercing the inky dark.

  “I don’t care about your past, Santino,” I whispered. “You should have known that I wouldn’t. Not with what’s lurking in mine. But the present—I want it all. Not just snippets you believe are appropriate. I want you. Even the shadows you’re fighting to keep at bay.”

  “Cara, if you knew—”

  His voice cut off as he looked to the sky, my hand slipping down to his neck. I followed his gaze, peering at the slivers of blue beyond the widespread branches—and saw nothing. Then again, with my human limitation, it wasn’t exactly a surprise. So I studied the hard planes of his face instead, noting the somewhat stiffer posture.

  Whatever it was that he was sensing, he wasn’t pleased.

  “We need to get back to the house,” he said after seconds of silence dragged by, and caught a tear with the tip of his finger. “Caz is coming. And he sounds pissed.”

  17

  As much as I tried to prepare myself, anxiety still gripped my insides as I watched the brush of emerald green and black scales against the backdrop of the sky. Strong, leathery wings casted shadows across the lake, and the air smelled faintly of ancient power. Angry power. But not directed at us.

  Instinctively, I gripped Santino’s hand as I stood immobile, aware of how little skin the shirt he had snagged for me from the patio in those few seconds we had to spare covered. He, on the other hand, had no qualms waiting for his friend in the nude. Santino’s presence was just as demanding as if he were dressed in the most expensive suit.

  With the way he carried himself, the way the sunlight illuminated his honed body so beautifully, it was solely because of the persistent fear wringing my insides that I hadn’t succumbed to blunt admiration.

  That, and the aching gashes of his betrayal that had yet to heal.

  But waiting here, shivering with each bat of Caz’s majestic wings, I understood even better why Santino had lied. It didn’t make up for it, nor did it excuse his secrecy, but at least I knew where his reluctance had come from. Even though the Perelesnyk descending towards us was friendly, my instincts were adamant to wreak havoc on my mind and body alike—something Santino and his heightened senses undoubtedly picked up.

  His fingers tightened around mine as if in promise he wouldn’t let anything hurt me, but his gaze remained on the emerald-and-black dragon who gracefully landed on the only space wide enough to accommodate his form. The lake.

  Water sloshed as his legs broke the surface, his massive body only briefly entering the water before a haze swirled around him. The pulse of magic emanating from the lake was strong enough to make me feel its presence even in this form.

  I sucked in a breath, watching the obscuring mist shrink and drive towards the shore, coming ever closer to our perch on the pebbled beach.

  “Haven’t done a water landing in a while,” Caz said the moment the magic pulled back and revealed a handsome, dark-haired man, his muscular body just as naked as Santino’s.

  My cheeks heated. No wonder Santino hadn’t bothered to cover up. And if the slightly territorial tightening of his grip was any indication, it was as much a display of testosterone between them as it was the easy attitude towards nudity the majority of the shifters seemed to share. Although Caz wasn’t really projecting anything towards me. He just was.

  Under any other circumstances, I would have found it infuriating—the possessiveness, not the nudity—yet something warm uncurled deep inside me at the thought that Santino considered me his. We still needed to talk, extensively at that, but it appeared my emotions didn’t receive the notice, the hurt receding in favor of something kinder.

  “Caz,” the dark-haired Perelesnyk said, swooping me from my thoughts as he extended his hand.

  A little to my surprise, I accepted it without hesitation, although a low, warning growl did slip from Santino’s lips.

  “Liana,” I said as our skin touched, hoping my voice masked Santino’s rude rumble.

  Briefly, Caz’s gaze flickered to his former partner, the dash of mirth sparkling in its amber depths making it clear my attempt had failed. But when he focused on me again, the amusement was already gone.

  “I wish we could have met under better circumstances,” he said with staggering sincerity. “I hope that after all this is over, Santino will stop his rumbling for long enough to let me properly meet his mate. And, perhaps, allow me to introduce mine to you.”

  Mate.

  I glanced up at the silver Perelesnyk standing on my left, wondering when the last time he’d spoken with Caz was. Unless the incubus dragon could see something I didn’t, some mystical bond or tendril of magic, then Santino must have shared his affection for me before anything had actually happened between us.

  The thought was unsettling yet oddly reassuring at the same time.

  I didn’t know all that much about what it meant for a Perelesnyk to claim someone as his mate—at least I didn’t think it was the whole fated-and-bound thing some other species had going on—but I knew enough to recognize the term as a sign of deep commitment.

  Sadly, it was just one more thing on the list of many Santino had failed to disclose.

  I fought the urge to shake my head and focused on Caz instead. “Thank you. For all that you’ve done already.”

  His expression was tight beneath the smile. “I only wish I could have done more.”

  “I presume that tone has something to do with the reason you’re here?” Santino cut in.

  Caz winced. Whatever it was, it was clearly news he wished he wouldn’t have to share.

  He glanced around the gentle incline leading from the lake into the woods, his gaze lingering on the myriad of bodies Santino and I had yet to dispose of. His mouth was flattened into a thin line when he faced us again, and the sigh that left his lips was heavy enough to make me go still with unpleasant anticipation.

  “An informant heard Kauer’s men were headed for Italy on some job. It didn’t take much to put two and two together.” He looked around again, then met my gaze. “That’s your work, isn’t it?”

  He motioned to the drowned men lying on shore, and, somewhat tensely, I nodded.

  “Impressive.”

  “Caz,” Santino warned. The scent of fire undulating from him grew stronger with each second the honest admiration continued to soften Caz’s features.

  “I thought I’d be fast enough to warn you before they got here,” he said, “but it seems the bastards beat me to it.”

  Every muscle in Santino’s body tensed. “You could have called, you know.”

  “I went to my informant in dragon form.”

  Neither Caz nor Santino said anything further, and it took me a moment to piece together that, obviously, they couldn’t stash a cell phone anywhere while shifting shape. It must have been the shock of everything that had happened lately settling in, because for a second there, I almost burst out laughing as the image of a dragon-proof fanny pack they could trot around with them flashed in my mind. Santino glanced at me, more than likely noting the sudden shift in my mood.

  I shook my head, hoping it
was enough to convince him I wasn’t about to break down. Not in front of Caz, at least.

  “I trust there’s more…” Santino lifted an eyebrow.

  Caz’s features turned graver. “As you probably noticed, Kauer isn’t among the fallen. The bastard stayed in Slovenia, running the operation from the shadows, as he prefers. If his previous record is anything to go by, he’ll be waiting for his men to check in after they’re done here. And if they don’t…”

  “He’ll retaliate with more force,” Santino finished through gritted teeth. “Cazzo. How much time do we have?”

  “Rusalkas still communicate only in person, right?” Caz asked, and I needed a second to realize he was addressing me.

  “Right,” I said, a sneaking suspicion of where all of this was going churning my insides. “If he wants their approval before he lashes out, he’ll have to go to the morass personally…”

  “Which buys us at least twenty-four hours,” Santino added.

  I stiffened, my gaze meeting the unyielding hardness of his. “I never told you where the morass is, Santino.”

  Caz’s eyes flickered between us, something I felt rather than saw, and if the low breath that whizzed from his lungs was any indication, he knew something I didn’t.

  “You really did plan to go after them alone, didn’t you?” I asked, not bothering to hide the hurt in my voice.

  I’d been so certain that I could withhold the information until he agreed to take me along, but it seemed Santino had been a step ahead of me this entire time. Frustration surged, but I clamped down on it hard and turned to Caz instead.

  “So we have to attack the morass before Kauer gets there,” I said bitterly.

  “It’s your only chance. After the men you killed, neither he, nor the Rusalkas will be willing to take any more risks.” He ran a hand through his curly, thick hair, amber eyes dark with anger. “In all the years I’ve been hunting the bastard, I never managed to get a full scope on his associates, but it goes without saying that he has more than skilled humans on the payroll, despite what you’ve seen so far. Eventually, not even you will be enough.”