Night Falls on the Wicked - By Sharie Kohler Page 0,80
and then took off in a wild beat. Before she could think or even wonder if she could do it—if she could manage it—she lurched off the ground and plunged the blade deep into the demon’s vulnerable flesh just as he was descending.
His scream filled the air. A hellish screech that could shatter glass. Darby brought her hands to her ears. Niklas held her tightly, and together they watched as the demon clawed at the blade, trying to pull it free of his scaled gladiator body. But it was too late. She’d made contact—wounded him in the one place he could never heal.
The demon crumpled, wilted before her eyes, blurring into a twisting plume of smoke as he dropped to the floor. Gradually the air cleared, leaving nothing. No sign of the demon that had once possessed her.
Gasping and shaking, she fell back down to the ground. Niklas caught her up in his arms.
“Darby!” He shifted then, returned to himself. She was instantly surrounded by smooth, warm muscle. He slid a familiar callused palm along her cheek. She smiled faintly as she realized she wasn’t the only one shaking. “You did it!”
She nodded, the motion as jerky and erratic as her pulse. “You came,” she whispered, gazing into his indigo eyes. “You shifted.”
He grinned, one corner of his mouth cocking in that way that made her breath fall faster. “It was nothing.”
She swatted his bare shoulder. Transitioning, shifting into that thing, that part of himself which he hated … it had been everything. And she knew it.
She peered intently at his face. “I wouldn’t be free if it wasn’t for you. I won’t ever forget what you did for me today. For Aimee. It was brave—stupid, but brave.” Then a thought dawned on her. “Aimee!” she exclaimed. “Where is she? She was supposed to return to you—”
“She’s fine. She’s being watched by a very nice lady back at the hotel. We’ll go see her right now.”
She relaxed, nodding. Of course, Niklas would see that Aimee was safe.
He sobered. His touch on her cheeks grew firmer, the pressure of each finger searing. “Why do you make it sound like you’re going somewhere? Like this is good-bye?”
“I—” She didn’t know what to say to that. She shivered, and remembered herself and where they were, what had just happened. Staring into his eyes, she could forget everything. “We better get out of here. It’s cold.”
“Nice change of subject. But you’re not running out on me.” He shook his head, slowly, his devouring gaze never wavering from her face. “Not ever again.”
Her chest grew tight and itchy from the way he was looking at her. She swallowed and moistened her lips as the words in her heart rose up on her lips. “I don’t want to leave you, Niklas. I didn’t want to leave you back at the hotel—”
“But you did.”
“Because I had to.”
“You thought, inaccurately, that you had to.” His hand slid around to grip the back of her head. “Don’t ever do that to me again.” His voice softened, gentled to almost a plea. “Okay?”
She nodded, emotion thickening her throat.
He pressed a kiss to her lips, speaking as he did so, “Now let’s go home.”
Home. God, that word sounded good. For the first time in a long time, it felt real. It felt possible. It didn’t occur to her to wonder where home was. Because she knew, with blinding certainty, that her home was with him and it always would be.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Darby and Niklas stared through the lightly falling snow at the pretty little house with gingerbread trim. It was something out of a storybook. In the emerging day smoke curled from the brick chimney. A beautiful piece of stained glass hung in the large front bay window. A cat appeared in the windowsill, stretching so that its calico tail brushed the framed glass.
Darby rubbed her hand up and down Aimee’s slight arm. “This is the place,” she announced. There was only one Alice Davies listed as a resident of this town.
“I remember the pretty glass in the window.” Aimee pointed at the house, leaning forward anxiously. “And that’s Patch. I remember he used to chew my toes.” She giggled and the sound lifted Darby’s heart.
Darby smiled, glad to see her anxious to reunite with her grandmother, but sad, too. Sad to say good-bye. She slid a lock of soft brown hair behind the girl’s ear.
Aimee looked at her, some of the happiness dimming from her eyes. “Don’t you want to come in