ten

The last thirty minutes had felt like an eternity. It was the strained silence that was killing him the most. Tegan wanted to see her smile, hear her laughter. He wanted the awkward, but comfortable ease that used to sit between them. Even when he had been his old miserable self, Phoebe had never failed to make him feel wanted. But now…

Now she stood with the most guarded expression on her face, refusing to meet his eyes. She didn’t want to speak to him. She clearly didn’t want to be here. Tegan felt the emptiness in his earlobe as clearly as he did in his heart.

For twenty years, he’d worn that stud. It had gotten him through some of the toughest days of his life. Just knowing Phoebe had the other half, knowing she was safe and well, had given him the strength to carry on.

Despite the ache the distance had caused though, Tegan only had to look at her now to claim that it had all been worth it. Phoebe stood with a confidence that hadn’t been there when he’d left. She was no longer the meek and terrified woman he’d found curled up in an alleyway. She no longer looked like she was waiting for death’s sweet embrace, as she had when he’d first found her.

That fateful night Tegan had been leading a team to bring order back to the streets. His instincts had led him down an alleyway. He’d almost missed her hiding behind the dumpster, but eventually he’d managed to pull her out.

At first he’d thought she’d been too terrified to fight him. But one look into her eyes as he’d lifted her into his arms and it was obvious why she didn’t struggle.

She’d wanted to die.

Not even twenty years old and already Phoebe had seen too much death, had experienced too much pain. Her gift was a curse that caused everyone around her to go insane. She’d watched people slaughter their friends and family because of her. She’d listened to their dying screams. And it was then that Tegan had realized he was staring at the cause of the riots.

He should have turned her in, but instead he had taken her home.

The following years had been beautifully torturous. Tegan had watched her evolve from a timid mouse that never came out of her room to a slightly less timid mouse that crept out only when no one was there. But then she’d begun to trust him and Dal, venturing out with them by her side. And it was then that Tegan’s love had turned into a raging desire. For like a caterpillar to the butterfly, Phoebe had finally found her wings.

She was excited by absolutely everything. The feel of grass on bare feet. The sight of common birds. The sound of waves as they crashed against the cliffs to the east of the castle. Nothing bored her. It was like she had finally found the peace in which she could enjoy the world around her.

 And then one day she’d turned her eyes on him. They had been full of delight and desire, so beautifully brown. It had taken everything Tegan had to continue to give her the distance she needed to heal. Heroically, he had lasted nearly a year and a half. Seventeen months, five days to be exact. But after one touch of her hand, one taste of her lips…

Tegan hadn’t stood a chance.

Walking away had been the hardest thing he had ever done. If Phoebe hadn’t needed more time to heal, if his presence wouldn’t have caused a blood red target to appear on her back, he never would have left.

She almost died today, Tegan’s conscience whispered. Walking away didn’t do shit to protect her.

“Phoebe, I – ”

Tegan cut himself off as he felt Dal’s presence. Phoebe looked at him curiously. Before she could speak, Dal phased into the room and crumbled to his knees.

“By the gods!” Rushing forward, Tegan caught him before he hit the ground.

Dalghizar’s face was covered in burns and blisters. It looked as if he had been held in boiling water and then flayed by a whip. The wounds ran all the way down his neck, disappearing into the collar of his shirt.

Galvanor, I need Gabriel in my room, Tegan ordered as he lowered his friend to the ground. Now!

He’s on his way.

“What happened?” the berserker demanded.

Dalghizar’s laugh was shaky. “I scared the shit out of Parius.” He mumbled something Tegan didn’t catch, then wheezed, “Worth it.”

The berserker’s eyes narrowed. Snorting in disgust, he shoved Dal’s shoulder and stood up. Ignoring Phoebe’s dumbfounded look, he went to pour himself a glass of Helfire. Knowing his friend wasn’t in any real danger of dying, Tegan figured the bastard could suffer a little longer for pulling a stunt like this.

“How are you drinking?” Phoebe demanded, her shock finally giving way. “We need to get him to a healer!” She rushed to Dalghizar’s side. Carefully, she reached for one of his hands. Holding on to him tightly, she whispered words of encouragement.

A tight wad of jealousy wrapped itself around Tegan’s heart. He would give anything to mean so much to her.

“I’ve already called a healer,” he said a bit rougher than he’d intended. “And Dalghizar, the moron, did this to himself.”

“What?” Phoebe’s head snapped to him. “Why?”

Tegan took a sip before answering. Though what he really wanted to do was down the whole glass. He hated it when Dal hurt himself during interrogations.

You’re a fucking asshole, Tegan growled.

Maybe, but it worked.

“Why!” Phoebe demanded.

Tegan shook his head in annoyance. “He wanted to scare Parius into talking.”

“The sous chef? But –” Phoebe’s mouth dropped open. “You mean Parius is responsible for…” She paled, her face turning a deadly white.

Dalghizar squeezed her hand, demanding her attention. Slowly, Phoebe met his gaze. “You didn’t make him do this,” Dal murmured. “Parius had his own reasons for hating me.”

That made Tegan stand to attention. “Are you saying this wasn’t about me?”

Dalghizar laughed, spraying blood everywhere. “The irony, yes?”

The irony? The fucking irony?

Tegan had stayed away from Phoebe for twenty years so he wouldn’t make her a target. He had truly believed his absence would keep her safe. To now learn that that had all been for nothing? That she had been targeted because he’d left her in the hands of Dalghizar? This wasn’t irony; it was –

“Fuck.” Tegan tossed back the contents of his glass and let the fire consume him.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Dal smirked.

“What are you two talking about?” Phoebe cried.

Before either could answer, the bedroom door opened. Gabriel entered with all the regality of a king. He took one look at Dalghizar before turning his attention to Phoebe. “I cannot heal wounds of the heart.”

Tegan bit back a swear. He’d hoped Gabriel wouldn’t realize what Dalghizar was until after he had healed him. Angels might not have declared war against vampire-werewolf hybrids as many others had done, but they had made it abundantly clear that they would not help them either.

“Are you blind?” Phoebe asked as she shot to her feet. “I’m not the one that needs your help!”

“I agree. The help you need is not what I can give.”

Phoebe’s mouth dropped open. Before she could do anything stupid, like argue with a bloody archangel, Tegan grabbed her arm.

“I will get someone else to heal him,” he murmured. Turning to Gabriel, he inclined his head in understanding.

“You can’t just let him leave!” Phoebe gasped. “Dal needs help now! He’s dying!”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Dal pointed out. Everyone ignored him.

“Phoebe –” Tegan tried, but she cut him off with a glare.

“No! He’s a fucking archangel. He can heal him.” She turned to Gabriel with daggers in her eyes. “So do it!”

The silence stretched before he asked, “Is it ignorance or stupidity that allows you to stand there?”

“It’s called compassion,” she growled. “For an angel you’re sorely lacking in it.”

Gabriel inclined his head. “Compassion would be killing him before he could take his next breath. His life has been nothing but misery and will remain so.”

“That’s bullshit. I’ve known him a lot longer than you and –” She hesitated before reluctantly saying, “Okay, his laughs are a bit empty and scary sometimes and his idea of fun can be quite twisted…” She cocked her head to the side as if in debate, then harshly shook it.

“But what matters,” she said a bit more forcefully, “is that Dalghizar does not deserve to die and you need to fucking heal him.” She crossed her arms. “Now.”

Gabriel smiled.

“No.” Then he turned away.

He’d barely taken a step before Phoebe lunged for him. She grabbed at his beautiful black wings in an attempt to pull him back. Tegan’s eyes widened with both fear and surprise as he reached forward to stop her. He was too late. With a rough yank, Phoebe had ripped out a handful of feathers.

She stood there in disbelief. Given her lack of horror though, it was obvious that she had no idea what she’d just done.

Lunging, Tegan grabbed the feathers and shoved her behind him. To harm an archangel was punishable by death. Gabriel would know it had been Phoebe, not him, but Tegan was still her legal guardian. If willing, he could take the punishment on her behalf and by the gods, was he willing. She was his lifemate and the love of his life. He would do anything for her, even accept the wrath of an archangel.

Ever so slowly, Gabriel turned to face them. His eyes landed on the mess in Tegan’s fist before rising to his face.

“I do believe those are mine.”

Tegan thrust them out. “It was an accident.”

Gabriel took the feathers in silence. Then he looked at Phoebe, causing the Rage inside Tegan to swarm to the surface. Tegan would die protecting her. That he knew.

“I’m so sorry. I thought they couldn’t be…” Phoebe swallowed as the words dried up in her mouth.

Gabriel’s eyes pierced straight into her soul. With a sudden dismissal, he headed for the door.

“Do not ask Xeno to heal him either,” he said. Then he was gone, the door shutting gently behind him.

Heart hammering wildly, Tegan spun on Phoebe. “What in the gods’ names were you thinking!”

“I really didn’t think they would –”

“You didn’t think at all, woman! Gods, Phoebe, he’s an archangel. Do you know what he could have done? What he had every right to do?”

Her apologetic mien gave way beneath his anger. Cheeks burning, eyes flaring, she shoved a finger in his chest. “Dalghizar needs help! How could you let a healer walk away when –”

He took a step closer, forcing her whole hand to lay against him. “You could have been punished for speaking to him like you did, let alone ripping out his feathers! Gods, Phoebe, you harmed an archangel!”

“And I apologized for that, but I had to do something!”

“No, you really didn’t!” he roared.

Dear gods, his heart was hammering wildly. Only someone with a death wish went up against an archangel. Gabriel would have had every right to smite her where she stood. Their rule was law regardless of one’s religion or race. To try to force them to do something was stupid, but to attack them was godsdamn suicidal. The demons and gods didn’t even talk back to them – at least not to their faces.

“But look at him!” Phoebe shouted with a touch of desperation. Her fear for her friend was obvious and that just enraged Tegan all the more.

He was going to kill Dal for scaring her like this. He was going to desecrate the hybrid’s grave for pushing her to confront a bloody archangel in order to heal him. But first Tegan was going to knock some sense into Phoebe so she would never scare him like this again. Dear gods, he could scarcely breathe.

Grabbing her shoulders, Tegan barely fought the urge to shake her. “How could you be so stupid?”

“Stupid!” Phoebe recoiled in offense. Her rage pushing back to the forefront, she stood up on her tiptoes so she could taunt him face to face. “I have seven PhDs, you dumb barbarian! How many do you have, huh?”

“While that is impressive, that’s not the fucking point and you know it. Clearly you’re not ready –”

“Ready for what?” She leaned in closer, her cheeks a furious red. Her eyes dared him to complete that sentence.

Sneering, Tegan purred, “Ready to leave the castle.”

She looked like she wanted to smack him. “Well, maybe that’s because I’ve been trapped there for twenty-five years!” Phoebe snapped. “Of course I’m not going to know –”

“Don’t say it like that,” Tegan growled as his head dipped to hers. “You know damn well it was for your protection.”

“My protection!” Phoebe’s hand on his shirt tightened into a fist as she pulled him ever closer. “We both know it wasn’t for my protection!”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

She scoffed, her lips parting on a breath of air. Her mouth drew Tegan’s attention like a moth to the flame. Instantly, his fear-induced anger was replaced by desire. His hands on her shoulders tightened as he took in a harsh breath. Her eyes darted to his lips. The fist in his shirt jerked as sudden awareness flashed across her face.

Standing nose to nose, his hands holding her close, Tegan was floored by temptation. He wanted to pull her close, claim her lips as he ran his hands through her hair. He wanted to take them back to the swimming hole where he could learn every inch of her all over again. He wanted to – Hell, he just wanted.

Desperately, Tegan leaned in. So did she – or was that just his imagination? It didn’t matter, he decided, because their lips were –

Boss, we need you in the study.

Mentally cursing, Tegan lifted his head. His breath caught at the sight of his lifemate. With her eyes half lidded, she was still leaning in. A wistfulness softened her features. It took everything he had to not ignore Galvanor’s summons and kiss her like he wanted to.

“Tegan?” Phoebe’s eyes opened slowly in confusion. When she mistook his withdrawal as regret, her walls came up in a heartbeat. Her eyes grew shielded. The grip on his shirt turned into a shove.

She didn’t have the strength to move him, but he stepped back for her anyways.

“Phoebe –”

It’s Jack, Galvanor pressed.

Clenching his jaw, Tegan said, I’m on my way.

He turned fully to Dal. If he stayed looking at Phoebe, he wouldn’t be able to leave. She looked so hurt and confused, so ashamed that she’d let him in – even if it had been for just a moment. Tegan wanted to stay until he could demand passage through whatever walls she had erected in his twenty-year absence.

Only Phoebe had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him anymore when she’d taken back the stud. After everything she’d gone through today, the least he could do was honor that.

But tomorrow would be a different story, he decided. Tomorrow he would woo her properly. He might have fucked up and hurt her enough to put her on the defense, but her desire was still there. She wanted him, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Twenty years ago, Tegan would have waited until she was ready. But he’d wasted too many years already; he wasn’t going to wait a single more.

Tomorrow, Tegan vowed. Tomorrow Phoebe would be his.

Wanting the day over with, Tegan hurried to Dal. He offered him his wrist in a silent command for him to drink. “I need you strong enough to phase with her.”

Without hesitation, Dal sank his fangs into his friends’ flesh. As soon as he had drunk enough to phase, Tegan headed for the door.

He stopped right as he opened it. Turning, he looked back at Phoebe. If Jack was going to kill them all, Tegan wanted his last memories to be of her.

So he took in her rosy cheeks, her parted lips. Her eyes were darker than normal, heated, but full of conflicting desires. Every inch of him wanted to go back and kiss her properly, to remove whatever concerns she had about them. He wanted –

Tegan? Galvanor prompted harshly.

Sighing, Tegan pivoted into the hall.

Tomorrow, he told himself. Only one more day. One more blasted day.

And then his lifemate would be his.