Page 39 of The Immortal’s Curse (Bound to the Immortals #2)
DARCIE
Shadows cling to my thoughts throughout the night. Dark alleys. A silent parking lot. The fluorescent light in the Robertsons’ bathroom right before Evetta attacked me.
Memories of those horrible moments, moments when I feared for my life, plague me throughout the night.
Add to that the guilt tearing me apart for how things ended with Kevin and Kayla, and my anxiety about speaking to Adir, and I only manage to catch a couple hours of sleep.
Sunlight begins to seep through the edges of the lacey curtains when the bedroom door flies open, and Alex bellows, “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!”
A gust of cold air slaps my legs as my blanket is ripped away.
“Hey!” I jolt upright, clutching a pillow to hide the silky camisole and shorts I borrowed from the dresser. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
“It’s time to get up.” He saunters to the window and throws back the curtains. Sunlight floods the room, stabbing into my skull, as painful as a migraine.
“Gah!” I shield my eyes. “It’s too bright! ”
“If I can handle the sun, so can you.”
I lower my arm and glare. “Aren’t you supposed to, like… turn to ash or something?”
“Pure myth.” Alex perches on the edge of the windowsill. “Vampires can walk in the sun, but it drains the younger ones. Most of us prefer to live in the darkness. Easier to hunt prey that way.” He waggles his eyebrows.
I clutch the pillow tighter against my chest. I hope he’s joking. “What time is it?”
“Nearly seven.”
I groan. “That’s so early.”
“Hey, don’t blame me.” He lifts both hands in mock innocence. “I’m just following orders.”
My brow furrows. “What orders?”
“To wake you and let you know your meeting with Adir is scheduled for nine.”
My palms go clammy. “So soon?”
He nods. “The alliance insisted.”
“What about the extra wards?”
“The brothers are evaluating them as we speak. Don’t worry. Des wouldn’t let you near Adir if it weren’t safe.”
I believe that. And yet, the pit in my stomach only grows.
“I need to eat something,” I mutter.
“Of course.” He crosses the room, and while his back is turned, I seize the quilt from the end of the bed and wrap it around my shoulders. The moment I stand, he’s rolling a dining cart inside.
Fresh fruit, flaky pastries, and a carafe of coffee rest on top. One breath of that hazelnut aroma, and my spine straightens.
“Is that from the Bean Bazaar?” I ask, though I already know. After weeks of working there, I could pick out that blend anywhere.
Alex chuckles as he wheels the cart to the table. “Naturally. I never travel without a bag. It’s my favorite roast. ”
Mine, too.
My bare feet pad along the plush carpet as I walk to the table and sit. He pours the coffee with a practiced hand and sets the cup in front of me.
I grasp the warm mug, holding the quilt closed with one hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He pours himself a cup and sits across from me.
We drink our coffee in silence.
I try not to think about what’s coming. I try to convince myself there’s no point in worrying. I won’t be alone in the dungeon. There are extra wards. I’ll be safe.
But the thoughts keep pressing in, relentless and cold.
I lower the cup and glance at Alex. He’s already watching me, one brow raised in quiet question.
Then, like a sudden storm in the ocean, a memory pulls me under.
A tall man kneels in front of me, his face nothing more than a blur in the haze of tears and fear. I press myself against a pair of tan slacks, tiny fingers clinging to the slender leg as if letting go would mean being swept away.
Warm fabric brushes my cheek, smelling faintly of soap and flowers.
“It’s alright, Darcie. He’s our friend,” comes a soft, feminine voice from above, lilting and patient, like a lullaby meant to console me.
I dare a glance around the woman’s slacks.
A dark brow arches over a piercing blue eye, sharp even through my watery vision. His mouth curves into a gentle smile, but the edges blur, slipping in and out of focus.
“Hello, little one,” he says. The smell of warm coffee drifts over to me. It smells exactly like Mom’s and fills me with a fragile sense of comfort.
A throat clears sharply, and my mind jolts back to the present. Alex’s concerned face swims into view.
My heart pounds.
“Is everything alright?” he asks, his voice low and cautious.
You’re imagining things , I tell myself. There’s no way that was Alex.
“Darcie?”
“Yes. I mean—” I shake my head. “Everything’s fine. Just… nervous, I guess.”
He presses his lips into a thin line. I can’t tell if he believes me. But he doesn’t get the chance to ask again.
A sharp knock sounds at the door. Before either of us can respond, it creaks open. Des stands in the doorway, and my pulse skids to a stop.
His dark hair is damp, like he just stepped out of the shower. His black shirt clings to his chest, and his jeans do nothing to hide his muscular thighs.
My mouth goes dry.
After everything he’s said, I hate that I’m still so attracted to him. A weak, pathetic part of me wishes things could be different, that he would apologize for saying he didn’t want me. That he wants to see what this connection between us could be.
Stop torturing yourself.
I square my shoulders. “Good morning, Des.”
“Good morning.” His gaze drops to where the quilt has slipped, revealing my bare shoulder. I pull the quilt up. His expression cools as his eyes shift to the man sitting across from me. “Alexander.”
“Desmond.”
Tension crackles .
“What are you doing here?” Des’s tone is calm, but the undertone bites.
Alex doesn’t flinch. “Retrieving Darcie, as per Eshe’s instructions.”
Des’s nostrils flare. “Indeed?”
Alex’s mouth flattens. “Indeed.”
I glance between them and frown. I thought they were friends, but the pointed glares cutting across the room say otherwise.
I shift in my seat, suddenly eager to be anywhere but here—even a dark, creepy dungeon.
Des’s gaze snaps to mine. “Have you eaten?”
“Um. No.” I glance at the untouched food on the table. “Not yet.”
“Here.” He reaches into his back pocket. “Eat this on the way. We don’t have much time.”
He tosses something at me.
I catch the object just before it smacks me in the face and lower it to my lap with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean? I thought I wasn’t meeting Adir until nine.”
“The plan has changed.”
A cold thread of worry slips through me. “Why? Has something happened?”
Des’s expression softens. “No. I just want the conversation to be private. I don’t need the others interfering.”
Alex tsks behind me. “That’s not very cooperative of you, Desmond.”
Des ignores him. “Adir’s planning something. Whatever it is, the fewer witnesses, the better.”
Maybe.
Or maybe going alone is exactly what Adir wants.
I glance at the item in my hand. It’s a blueberry granola bar with dark chocolate—my favorite.
My eyes snap to Des .
How did he know?
Before I can ask, Alex’s voice slices through the moment. “I hope you don’t plan to keep me out of the conversation.”
Des stiffens. “There’s no need for you?—”
“Wrong.” Alex’s tone is sharp. “And you know why.”
The air tightens with another stare-off. I glance between the men, head swinging back and forth, waiting for one of them to crack. No one does. But I’m done sitting in the dark.
“Are either of you planning to explain what’s going on?” My voice cuts through the silence. I focus on my boss, my former boss. “Why do you need to be in the dungeon?”
The sharp edge in his eyes fades as he looks at me. “Because I know my sire. And if he crosses a line, Desmond can’t be the one to stop him.”
“Why not?”
“Because he can’t afford to get his hands dirty. Not with the rebellion sniffing around, looking for any excuse to discredit him or the Council.”
I blink. That wasn’t the answer I expected. “So you’re saying you could stop him? You can challenge an Original Immortal?”
“There are many things vampires can do to Immortals.” Alex’s icy gaze slides back to Des. A faint, knowing smile curls his lips. “Which is one reason their kind has taken to hunting us like rabid dogs.”
Des doesn’t move, but a muscle ticks in his jaw.
And a realization lands hard in my gut.
Alex isn’t afraid of the Original Immortals.
But I think they might be afraid of him.