EXCERPT
The gorgeous warrior followed behind her, a dark
shadow barely a few feet from her, his footsteps almost silent.
They reached a split in the corridor and Erin paused.
Neither of the avenues she could take looked inviting. Both were pitch-black
and voices came from one. Or was it the other? Everything echoed in the
corridors and it was hard to distinguish which would lead her to a grisly death
and which would lead her to freedom.
She chose the right.
The man grabbed her around the waist from behind,
twisted her in his arm, and slung her over his shoulder.
Erin struggled and his arm tightened against her back,
causing his thick shoulder to press into her stomach. Her organs protested,
sharp pain lancing each one.
“You’ll fall off. I need to move fast and you’re
slowing me down.”
Well, that was just rude. Erin punched his backside.
God, it was like a rock. She almost purred. Could this man get any smexier?
“You can’t carry me and fight your way out of here.”
He laughed, the warm timbre of it echoing around the
dark walls. “Believe me, Sweetheart, I can fight with both hands tied behind my
back. You’re no hindrance at all.”
He jogged down the left corridor with her, each step
jolting her on his shoulder until she felt close to losing what little remained
of the last thing she ate. Erin grabbed his leather belt, hooked her thumbs
into the waist of his jeans and pushed herself up enough that it didn’t hurt as
much as he ran.
This was just embarrassing now.
It was bad enough having her rescuer belittle her.
Having him carry her fireman-style to freedom was
making her wish he had left her in her cell.
Warm fresh air assaulted her, as fresh as Hell got
anyway, and she looked up to see the huge black walls of the prison fortress
bouncing away from her.
“You can put me down now,” she said but he didn’t hear
her. Either that or he was ignoring her. She was tempted to punch him on the
backside again but gave up and let him have his way.
The jagged towers of the prison slowly wobbled into
the distance and were lost from view behind the spires of black rock that lined
the path her hero had chosen. Vents in their sides and tops belched hot acrid
smoke that stole her breath. She pulled his black t-shirt up, exposing a lean
delicious back, and covered her mouth with it. How the hell could he run in
this?
Erin wanted to be sick.
She counted the bounces in his step to keep her focus
off the horrendous smell of rotten eggs invading her lungs and the increasing
number of bleached bones that lined the path as though someone had kicked the
bodies out of the way and just let them rot there. Or perhaps some smaller
creature had picked the bones clean. There were grooves in some of them, as
though sharp teeth and claws had scraped them. Erin hoped it had happened after
death and that the screams still ringing in her ears weren’t the death cries of
people being eaten alive.
The man managed over three hundred steps before he
finally stopped and set her down with surprising care in a wide clearing.
“Are you alright?” He held her at arm’s length,
looking her over.
Her blood heated when his dark eyes lingered on her
breasts and then the tiny shorts she wore.
“Do you always dress like this?” He raised an eyebrow.
Erin folded her arms across her chest, covering her
breasts. The black pebbles of the path cut into the bare soles of her feet. “I
was in bed when they took me.”
He ran his gaze over her again and a touch of crimson
ringed his dark irises.
Erin took a step backwards.
That had to be a reflection of their fiery
surroundings. It had to be.
Mr Tall, Dark and Deadly couldn’t be something
straight out of Hell.
He frowned at her feet. Erin gasped as his large hands
settled on her waist and he lifted her onto a relatively smoother rock on the
side of the path.
“I didn’t anticipate this.” He rubbed his stubbly jaw
and crouched before her. His hands were gentle as he lifted one of her feet and
inspected the sole, his thumbs pressing in and sending a warm jolt up to the apex
of her thighs.
She placed one hand on top of his head to steady
herself and tried to resist the sudden desire to comb her fingers through the
long crimson lengths of his hair.
She had dated a few men with long hair in the past but
none of them had dyed it the colour this man had chosen. It was like blood.
“I like your do,” she said with a smile. “It’s pretty
cool.”
He frowned up at her. “Do?”
“Your hair.”
His frown intensified. “We are trapped in Hell and you
are discussing my hair?”
“I have to do something to take my mind off the fact
that I’m trapped in Hell. What dye do you use?”
The man straightened and even when she was standing on
a rock, she was still shorter than he was. “It is not dyed.”
“That’s natural?”
“If you would like, I can prove it to you.” His smile
was nothing short of salacious and he reached for his belt. “The carpet matches
the curtains.”
Erin blushed and grabbed his hands to stop him from
going ahead and flashing her. He looked as though he really would go through
with it and while the thought of seeing every inch of this man nude was
appealing, it couldn’t stand up to her greater desire to escape.
The man shrugged and then did something that really
challenged her ability to think straight and focus on escaping.
He removed the leather contraption that held his sword
to his back, reached over his head and tugged his black t-shirt off, revealing
a body so perfect that it would make angels weep. Every inch of lightly bronzed
skin stretched taut over granite hard muscles. They shifted in a sensual
symphony as he easily tore his t-shirt into two pieces. Her gaze ambled over
him, ignoring her commands to focus on anything other than his godly form, then
he upped the stakes and it was game over.
He crouched again and bent over her feet, giving her a
glorious view of his strong back and the detailed red and black tribal tattoos
that swept up his thick arms and down his shoulder blades. They curled there,
skirting identical ridges of scar tissue.
Erin leaned forwards as he finished wrapping one of
her feet in half of his ruined t-shirt and started on her other. She swept her
fingers along the wide dark scar that slashed up his left shoulder in line with
his spine.
The man was gone in a flash, standing several feet
away from her and breathing hard.
“What the fuck?” he snarled and Erin flinched, her
hand still poised where his back had been. “Don’t touch me. Understand?”
“I’m sorry... I just saw the scars and wondered what
had happened to you.” She hated that she couldn’t get her voice above a whisper
and that she couldn’t look at him. Shame burned her cheeks. So much for her
insane thoughts about paying back her glowering saviour with some naughty time
when they made it out of Hell.
Erin stared at her feet. He had done a nice job of
covering them with his t-shirt. She supposed she should thank him for coming to
save her and for not doing the whole thing with her slung over his shoulder,
leaving her feeling weak and pathetic. Maybe she should just ask him to point
her in the right direction and she would find the way out on her own. Her gaze
shifted to his sword where it lay on the ground. On second thought, he was
armed and if she ran across some of those demons, he might be able to fend them
off or even kill them.
“Thank you for coming for me. I owe you my life,” she
said and finally managed to find the courage to look him in the eye again.
He casually shrugged his wide bare shoulders. “You own
me nothing. I’m only here because Amelia would have come if I hadn’t, and if
she dies then that’s my life over.”
“Oh.” Erin’s gaze ate basalt again and her cheeks
scalded, her burning heart heating them. He was with Amelia. That made sense in
a strange way, although it only left her with more questions about why Amelia
knew about Hell, what the Devil wanted with her and how she had met this man.
A man who had taken her place, risking his life to
save Erin so she didn’t have to.
Erin stepped down from the rock, feeling as though
someone had just popped her favourite balloon. She knew she should feel happy
that her sister finally had a man in her life that had a noble and good bone in
his body but she couldn’t muster the emotion when jealousy was riding her.
Her amber eyes met his dark ones but she couldn’t hold
his gaze. It fell to the ground again. She didn’t want to look at him anymore.
The blood staining his face and the harsh cuts across his bearded jaw and neck
did nothing to dampen his feral handsome looks.
Erin envied Amelia for having him in her life.
“I want to keep moving.” She started off without him,
following the winding path that was surrounded by black jagged rocks and
bleached bones and stretched into an equally dark and bleak distance.
Erin was beginning to hate black.
The man easily caught up with her in a few long-legged
strides and fell into step beside her, his broadsword strapped to his back
again. He cut an imposing figure as he strolled along beside her, his air
casual yet throwing off a lethal don’t-even-try-it vibe.
She wanted to give him the silent treatment but it had
been days since she had spoken to someone and he was currently her mind and
heart’s favourite subject. She wanted the goods on this man, every juicy bit of
them.
“So... were you a captive here once too and that’s why
you know your way around?” That question hung in the air between them.
His lip curled, revealing a flash of straight white
teeth, and he frowned.
Clearly, he was still pissed at her for touching him.
Well, sorry. She couldn’t have stopped herself if she had tried. She still
wouldn’t be able to if she so much as glanced at the scars that he had
evidently tattooed around, as though they were central to the design.
He was silent a few seconds longer and then looked
down at her out of the corner of his eye and smiled.
Erin walked on a few paces, towards a long sloping
drop into a valley below. She glanced down, seeing that the path she was on
turned a corner ahead and continued close to a hundred feet below her.
He finally spoke. “You could say that I’m local.”
That unnerved her, especially when coupled with the
bright crimson that flared in his dark irises, a corona surrounding his
narrowed pupils.
Erin stepped away from him, backing towards the edge
where it was rocky and the stones were loose underfoot. Her gaze darted down to
the path far below her. Her footing was poor where she was but she didn’t want
to be near him until she was sure it was safe. She would sooner risk falling
than being within his reach.
He frowned at her and then at her feet, and held his
hand out to her. “Come away from the edge.”
Erin shook her head.
If he was something terrible, then she was going to
hit the slope, slide down to the path below and make a break for it. She would
probably cut her bare legs up but it was better than being tortured by a demon.
Had he only rescued her so he could toy with her and hurt her? Was this just
another trick after all?
Her sister would never associate with something
demonic and evil.
“Do you work for the Devil?” Erin shuffled backwards.
His dark eyes flicked to her feet and then back to her eyes, and he stretched
his hand closer to her, an impatient and concerned expression on his face. The
Devil could change his appearance. This man had a voice that could melt her and
so had the Devil. They were one and the same. “Are you the Devil?”
He laughed. “Hell, no. I’m not that evil. Do I look
like I go around getting manicures between torture sessions?” He sighed and
smiled at her. “I swear to you, Erin. I’m not here to hurt you... and I will
keep you safe. Trust me?”
“No, I don’t trust you. I don’t even know you... you
say you’re local but you don’t work for the bastard who held me captive, and
you expect me to believe that shit?” She edged further away from him and he
frowned, his eyes narrowing and expression switching to one of irritation.
Anger flared in his eyes.
He growled, low and vicious, and the flecks of red in
his eyes brightened. “I expect you to believe it because it’s the truth. I hate
the bastard who kidnapped you, and would like nothing more than a chance at
separating his head from his body. I’m risking my neck to save you and you dare
accuse me of being the one loathsome creature I despise above all others?”
Erin backed off another step as he advanced one, until
the balls of her feet hit the slope. Her heart thumped out a hard rhythm
against her breastbone and blood rushed through her ears. His gaze locked on
hers, challenging her to accuse him again, to voice any belief she still had
that he was unworthy of her trust. She trembled and stared up into his eyes,
searching them for a sign that he was lying to her.
His anger seemed genuine, born of hatred for a man
that she too despised and disgust at being compared with him. He couldn’t blame
her for being cautious though, surely? After everything she had been through,
it was only natural for her to think everyone in this horrible place was out to
get her, and he had admitted that he was a local.
The man backed off at last, the anger in his eyes
melting away together with the red, leaving his irises dark. He sighed, his
shoulders heaving with it, grimaced and rubbed a hand over his face.
“What am I supposed to say to make you believe me?” he
whispered and met her gaze again. “Tell me that, Erin. I’ve trekked through
Hell to find you, have fought and killed to reach you, have carried you and
tended to you. I’ve risked my life to save you. Doesn’t that make me worthy of
a little trust? You think I want to be here?”
No, she didn’t. He had mentioned more than once that
he was risking everything by being in Hell, by saving her, and she felt
terrible for doubting him.
He held his hand out to her again. “I swear to you,
Erin, that I mean you no harm and I am here purely to rescue you and reunite
you with your sister. Will you trust me to do that? Can you trust me?”
Erin’s better judgement said not to but she slipped
her trembling right hand into his and stepped away from the edge. She looked up
into his eyes. They glowed red around the edges again and in the centre too,
highlighting his wide pupils. His gaze locked with hers and rocked her with a
jolt that reached her soul.
“What’s your name?” she whispered, captivated by his
eyes and lost in them. They had more power over her than the Devil’s had. She
wanted to stare into their flaming depths for all eternity.
“Veiron,” he husked, his warm breath caressing her
face, and Erin’s senses came alive, lighting up like an electrical storm. His
masculine scent of dirt, aftershave and fresh sweat filled her nostrils. The
warmth of his hand clasping hers heated her right down to her bones. The sound
of his voice made her blood burn to hear him speak again. Her gaze delighted in
discovering every tiny fleck of fire in his dark irises. The only sense left
was one that cried out for a taste of him.
She might be losing her mind, but she knew without a
doubt that she wanted this man regardless of what he was.
He was the most dangerous man she had ever met and he
belonged to her sister, but there was something about him, something sensual
and powerful, deadly and alluring, that she couldn’t resist. He had the smile
of a demon, the body of a god, and the tenderness of an angel when he let his
guard down.
Her captivity had been a nightmare.
But travelling through Hell with this man at her side
was going to be a worse form of torture.
Jacqueline Gardner works as a Story Editor for the production company, Labragirl Pictures. Her love of storytelling began at an early age when she would make up stories with her grandmother before bedtime. In early 2010, she completed her first novel and has been stuck on writing ever since. She resides in Colorado and loves hiking, writing, fantasy fiction, and all things cupcake.
