CHAPTER EIGHT
What?” Dalton’s chest tightened. He wanted to believe he’d heard wrong, that Derek hadn’t said what he thought he’d said.
“He’s dead.”
“When? How?”
Dalton felt Isabelle next to him, her hand squeezing his.
“That night, after you took Isabelle away. The black diamond held a demon inside it. Lou took the diamond and coaxed the demon out of it. It … absorbed inside him.”
Dalton fought to control his breathing, concentrating instead on Derek’s voice. “The demon went inside him?”
“Yeah. It was a powerful demon. Equal to the Sons of Darkness. The only way to kill the demon was to … destroy its host.”
Dalton pushed back from the chair and paced the room, his heart pounding. This couldn’t be real. “How did it happen?”
“We had to do it,” Derek said, his voice low.
Shock lanced him. “What?”
“We had to do it,” Derek said again. “All of us. With lasers.”
“Why?”
“Christ.” That had to have cost them all, emotionally. “He’s gone? He’s really gone?”
“Yeah, man. He is.”
He couldn’t process this. Lou, gone.
“Dalton, come in.”
He shook his head. “I can’t talk right now.” He clicked off and laid the phone down, and immediately felt a warm body pressed against his back.
“Lou’s dead?” Isabelle asked, her voice soft.
“Yes. The night we left Sicily. There was a demon inside the black diamond and Lou took it on. To destroy the demon inside him the hunters had to kill Lou.”
She laid her head against his back. “Dear God. I’m so sorry.”
Sadness emptied him from the inside out. Lou had been so understanding, so wise; he had been Dalton’s mentor. Incredibly kind and smart, he knew demon hunting, had understood the Sons of Darkness with a keen insight. Dalton had always been able to go to Lou with anything.
Lou had been his friend.
Devastation tore a hole in him.
“Come sit down with me.”
Warm fingers entwined with his, an equally warm body pressed up against his side. Like a robot, he followed Isabelle to the sofa and sat. He looked over to find her sitting next to him, tears filling her beautiful eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Dalton.”
Even though Lou, as Keeper, had been instrumental in ordering Isabelle killed, she still mourned his death. Dalton turned and pulled her against him and she snuggled close, laying her palm against his chest.
“It hurts to lose someone you care about.”
He didn’t say anything, had no answer. She was right. Despite trying not to care for anyone, it had happened.
A human quality—caring. And when he cared, people died. It would have to stop.
“I need to go out and get some air.”
He stood. So did she.
“I’ll go with you.”
He shook his head. “I appreciate it, but I really just need to take a walk. By myself.”
“If it was me this happened to, would you let me go off alone?”
He looked at her. “That’s different.”
She slipped her hand in his. “No, it’s not. You don’t need to be alone right now. You don’t have to make small talk or even say a word, but I’m not going to let you go wandering off by yourself. I’m going with you.”
He gave a curt nod. “Let’s go.”
They headed out the front door and down the walk. The night was cloudy, muggy; it was hard to catch a breath since there was no wind.
True to her word, Isabelle said nothing, just held tight to his hand as he wandered the path leading away from the cabin and into the darkness. He didn’t even know where he was going, only that sitting in the house, feeling the walls closing in on him, would make him crazy. He needed to be outside where he could wander, lose himself in the swamp and the trees and hear the night sounds, where every thought wouldn’t be about Lou.
They walked a long way, deep into the woods before he turned them around and headed back the way they’d come, guiding them back toward the cabin. When they reached the front of the cabin, he directed her to the two wicker chairs. “I’m not ready to go in just yet. Have a seat.”
Isabelle stared out toward the swamp they’d just returned from. “Didn’t it scare you to be out there, so remote, in the darkness?”
He smiled. “No. There’s nothing to be afraid of out here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“What if demons had showed up?”
He reached behind him, lifted his shirt, and pulled out a laser pistol. “I’m not stupid. I never travel without being armed.”
“Oh.”
“That was one of the first things Lou taught me. Always have a weapon close at hand. You never know when you’ll need it.”
“Sounds like Lou was a smart guy.”
“He was. A good leader, too.”
“And a friend?” She reached for his hand again.
“Yeah.” The guilt poured over him. “I should have been there.”
“What could you have done?”
“I don’t know. Something. I left the team—I just should have been there. It was my responsibility.”
“To do what? To help them kill Lou? Or do you think you could have stopped it from happening?”
He pulled away from her, laid his head in his hands, and dug his fingers in his hair. “I don’t know. Nothing would have changed. You can’t change someone’s destiny. What’s meant to be can’t be altered without screwing up a lot of things. I of all people should know that.”
“What does that mean?”
He lifted his head. “Nothing.”
“Dalton, why do I feel you’re keeping something from me?”
“It’s nothing. I’m just rambling.” He stood. “Let’s go inside.”
She stood, but instead of going inside, took a few steps off the porch, then turned to face him. “No. Tell me what you meant. You’re talking about me, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“The whole changing of destiny and not altering things. That’s what you did with me, and look how it’s messed everything up.”
“That’s not at all what I’m talking about.”
“Yes, it is. I was meant to be with the Sons of Darkness. Or destroyed by the Realm of Light. What you did changed that. And now Lou’s dead and it’s my fault.”
Wow. Women and their leaps in logic. How did she manage that one? He walked down the stairs toward her, grasped her by the shoulders, and looked her in the eyes. “No. Lou’s dead because he made the choice to absorb a demon, knowing what the outcome would be. That would have been the same no matter what happened to you. And no one is meant to be a demon. That’s not your destiny. I don’t believe it any more than I think you do.”
“Don’t I? You have no idea what my life has been like. You’ve only known me a short period of time. You don’t know the impulses I’ve had, the darkness that’s buried just under the surface.”
“You think you’re the only one who has dark impulses? That’s human nature.”
“Is it? Is it human nature to set fire to a bungalow with people inside? Or try to kill my own sister?”
“It was never proven that you were the one who set the fire your mother mentioned in her diary.”
“I had the matches on me. My mother said I smelled of smoke.”
“Do you remember doing it?”
She shook her head.
“Then how do you know you had anything to do with it?”
“Oh, come on. You’ve seen my memory lapses. Who knows what I’m capable of. It fits, doesn’t it? I was always different, Dalton. I hurt people. And I hated Angelique my whole life.”
He smoothed his hands over her shoulders. “I think you’re normal, Isabelle, with normal human frailties. Maybe you were selfish and self-absorbed before. Lots of people are. That doesn’t make you evil.”
She lifted her gaze to him. “You just like to see the good in people.”
His lips lifted. “Sometimes. And often there isn’t any. With you, there’s plenty of good.”
“You were there the night in Sicily. You know what I am, what’s inside me.”
“And that’s the only time I’ve seen evidence of the demon inside you. The night the Sons of Darkness took you over and controlled you. So why are you damning yourself because of that one act?”
She put a fist against her stomach. “Because it’s still in me. I feel it, fighting inside to get out.”
“If you were truly evil, don’t you think the demon part of you would be winning? We wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d be trying to kill me.”
“I’m trying to fight it.”
“Which proves what I said. You’re not evil.”
“I wish I could believe that. Why do you believe in me?”
“Because I know what’s inside you, what you’re capable of, even if you don’t see it.”
“You think my humanity is my salvation.”
“Yes.”
“Prove it.”
He frowned. “How?”
“I’m human right now, Dalton. This is me, the human Isabelle. No demon in sight. Prove that you believe in me.”
She tilted her head back, her golden-green eyes mesmerizing. The fullness of Isabelle’s lips drew him, and suddenly tasting her became more important than breathing.
Really bad idea. Taking what he shouldn’t take and letting human needs get the best of him had been his downfall. He couldn’t let it happen again.
He was stronger than his own desires. He hadn’t been before. That’s where he’d made his mistakes. Thinking with your emotions and your heart got you in trouble every time. Logic always won out if you listened to it, and logic told him any involvement with Isabelle other than what he was here to do spelled disaster for both of them, no matter what Georgie had suggested.
But feeling Isabelle so close to him made his blood pound. It was as if they were connected, and he could hear her heart beating, sense the blood rushing in her veins. He picked up her scent, sweet and musky—a heady combination that entered his senses and drove him crazy. He dragged his fingers through his hair.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Her voice had gone soft.
“Nothing.”
“You’re a really bad liar, Dalton.”
“Am I?” He used to be really good at it.
“Yes.”
“And what do you think I’m lying about?”
“Your thoughts. You’re thinking about me.”
He let his smile show. “Isn’t that a little vain, Isabelle?”
“No. I could almost feel it, like you were touching me.”
Shit. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “I can’t explain it. I could feel your thoughts like a whisper across my skin. It happens when I think about you. Weird, huh?”
Weird, no. Uncomfortable as hell, yes. And her telling him this wasn’t helping his resolve to be stoic. His supposed impenetrable wall of reserve was buckling. The night was hot, and so was the woman in front of him. What harm would it do to—
He felt something wet and lifted his head. The first fat droplets fell on his arm, then his face.
“It’s starting to rain. We need to get inside.”
She didn’t budge. “I don’t mind getting wet. And I’m not going to let you run from me this time.”
“I’ve never run from you.”
“Haven’t you? You keep telling me you trust me, that you think of me as human, but here I am, Dalton, asking you to prove it to me. This is your chance.”
The rain came down harder now, soaking them both, the wind picking up and whipping her hair around her cheeks. Her clothes were wet and stuck to her skin, outlining her breasts, her nipples. Dalton grabbed her hand and they ran onto the porch. He stopped, turned to her, his gaze raking every inch of her rain-soaked body.
She followed where he was looking, then lifted her gaze to his eyes. She wasn’t smiling, but he read every emotion on her face, from interest to desire to invitation.
She licked her lips. “Dalton.”
“Ah, hell,” he said, moving in on her, caging her against the front door with his hips. He threaded his arm around her waist and did what he’d wanted to do for days.
He kissed her.