Dark Protector Read online

  A little horseplay helped alleviate the tension they lived with day in and day out. As long as they did no harm, Devlin wasn’t about to complain.

  “I’m still officially off the roster until Dr. Young and Dr. Neal finish poking holes in me and bleeding me dry. I’m going to turn in early, in hopes that a full day’s rest will convince them to let me out of their clutches.”

  His friend cocked his eyebrow. “Dr. Neal’s not my type, either. However, I wouldn’t be in such a hurry to get away from Dr. Young, if I were you.” He closed his eyes as if to savor an image in his mind. “All those brains, and a beauty to boot.”

  A surprisingly powerful urge to punch his friend almost sent Devlin diving across his desk. With no little effort, he forced himself to unclench his fists and to maintain a pleasant expression on his face. He placed his hands on his desk and pushed himself to his feet. Until he got himself under better control, he would be better off alone.

  Cullen walked him out to the corridor. “Don’t rush coming back. If we need you, we’ll call.”

  “See that you do.”

  Once Cullen was out of sight, Devlin slammed his fist against the wall. Damn Laurel Young and those big eyes of hers. Did she have every single one of the Paladins drooling over her? Paladins weren’t known for their sexual restraint, and if one of them managed to hook up with her, there’d be hell to pay.

  Especially if that someone was anyone other than Devlin himself.

  • • •

  Laurel had wasted far too much of the morning watching the clock. If she’d been smart enough to give Devlin Bane a specific appointment, perhaps she would have accomplished far more than she had. She was thoroughly disgusted with herself and this foolish fixation. There were good solid reasons why generations of Handlers and Paladins had kept their interactions on a coldly clinical basis. But every time she let her concentration slip, her eyes went right back to staring at the minute hand and wishing it would move.

  Paladins were the warriors who stood between their world and the dark one that threatened to seep in and destroy it. The Others were their enemies, not quite human but close enough to pass. They hovered on the other side of the barrier that separated the worlds. When the barrier was damaged, Others poured through the breach until the Paladins turned back the tide in bloody hand-to-hand combat, using weapons straight out of the Dark Ages. While they battled, others mended the barrier. When the damage was too great to be easily repaired, the Paladins stood shoulder-to-shoulder and held the line.

  The cost to their souls was horrific. Laurel shuddered. No one knew why, but the more a Paladin fought and died, the more he became like the Others, uncontrollable and murderous. She hated the thought of destroying one of the valiant men she knew and respected, but she would do it when it became necessary.

  She owed it to him and his companions.

  Even if it was Devlin Bane. Especially if it was him. The man had fought longer than any man in the history of Paladins; he deserved to end his life with some dignity and not as a ravening monster. What the cost to her own soul would be, she didn’t begin to guess.

  The intercom buzzed. Not wanting to seem anxious, she waited a full five heartbeats before responding.

  “Yes, Sergeant Purefoy?”

  “Devlin Bane is here to see you.”

  “Give me a minute before bringing him in.”

  She’d be lucky if the guards could hold Devlin back half that time, but even those precious few seconds would allow her to make sure everything was in order. Her cot was safely stowed back in its closet, the blanket that Devlin had used to cover her was neatly folded and tucked away in a nearby cabinet.

  Why she hadn’t dropped it in the laundry hamper didn’t bear thinking about. And how embarrassing was it to have fallen asleep while on duty, no matter how tired she had been? She’d spent way too much time wondering what it had been like to be held in Devlin’s strong arms. She wished she remembered that as clearly as she did waking up surrounded by his scent from the blanket he’d used to cover her.

  Damn, she had to stop doing this. That blanket was definitely going into the laundry. Before she could go three steps, though, the door to the lab swung open and Devlin Bane was escorted in by Sergeant Purefoy and his men.

  Devlin was clearly not happy at having the guards tripping along at his heels.

  “Thank you, Sergeant. I’ll buzz you when he’s ready to leave.” She didn’t like the rule that stated that a Paladin was never left to wander on his own, but she had to follow it. There were other, more important battles to fight than that one.

  “Let’s get this over with.”

  Devlin was already rolling up his sleeve, obviously thinking that Dr. Neal had merely ordered a repeat on the blood work. Instead, he wanted a whole battery of tests run, starting with strength and endurance.

  “Let’s start off on the treadmill.” She reached for her clipboard to avoid Devlin’s gaze.

  “Why the hell would I want to do that?”

  Bracing herself for the explosion she was sure was imminent, she handed him the list. “This is what Dr. Neal ordered.”

  Devlin all but jerked the piece of paper from her fingers. “No way in hell, Dr. Young. I don’t have time for this nonsense.”

  She didn’t blame him, but she couldn’t countermand her superior’s orders. Dr. Neal was normally easy to work for, but if she pushed him too far he might relieve her of Devlin’s care. Something she would not risk.

  Maybe she could offer Devlin a compromise. “We could do half of the list today and the rest tomorrow.”

  Devlin stood glowering down at her. “Why is he doing this? What does he expect to find?”

  “You’ll have to ask Dr. Neal.” Personally, she thought Devlin deserved the truth, but he wasn’t going to get it any time soon.

  “I’ll get things set up.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of running shorts. “These will be more comfortable than your jeans.”

  Devlin watched her leave the room, the white lab coat doing little to disguise her long legs and feminine sway. He was still battling the side effects of being revived, and being around Laurel only made his sexual frustration worse.

  He stripped off his shirt and reached for the snap on his jeans. Maybe a long workout on the treadmill would help. He’d refrained from his normal morning run: until he knew who’d tried to kill him, it wasn’t smart to make a target of himself.

  “Step up on the machine.” Laurel held a bouquet of wires in her hand. One by one, she peeled the protective paper off the electrodes and began sticking them on his chest and arms. Each time her fingertips brushed his skin, a ripple of awareness burned along his nerve endings. He was glad that she didn’t have the monitor turned on yet, or every wicked thought he was having would have been recorded. Like how he wanted to haul her off to somewhere private and kiss her senseless, for starters.

  And what would Dr. Neal and his associates have made of those readings? When he smiled at the thought, Laurel instinctively backed up a step. Smart girl. If she was a little afraid of him, they’d both be better off.

  “Start out at a slow pace, then gradually speed up. I know how fast you guys heal, but that was a bad break in your leg. I don’t want to risk further injury to it.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Not quite, but in another day it would be as good as new. He started off slowly, letting his muscles warm up and stretch out. After the first few minutes, he fell into the familiar rhythm of his early morning runs. It felt good to be moving again, to feel his blood circulating, his lungs drawing in air.

  His leg was holding up so far, with no appreciable difference from the uninjured one. Even if it had acted up, he would have continued on as long as it would hold him. He needed to know if he could depend on it when he went back out into the field.

  The likelihood of a major shift in the fault line that ran along the western edge of Washington was becoming more and more apparent. If the barrier went down, it could be a
bloodbath and every sword would be needed.

  Which reminded him that he still needed to go to the armory before the day was out.

  “You can start slowing down.” Laurel moved away from the monitor to add the final printouts to his chart.

  Devlin kept up the pace for another few minutes, partly because it felt good, and partly because it allowed him that much control. Laurel ignored his little rebellion, maintaining her focus on the various readings the machine was spewing forth. He hated having everything about him being reduced to a series of endless numbers and charts, as if they were more real than he was himself.

  He gradually slowed to a stop and stepped off the machine. Swiping a towel off a handy pile, he wiped the sweat off his face and neck and waited to see what she wanted to do next. He had a few ideas of his own on that subject, but doubted if she would be interested. Besides, this wasn’t the place for such thoughts.

  Cameras and microphones allowed the guards outside to monitor everything that went on. If he gave in to the temptation of taking Laurel Young to bed, it wouldn’t be with anyone looking on.

  “What’s next?”

  One look at her face and he knew. He wadded up the towel and threw it in the direction of the hamper in the corner. Another damn brain scan, looking for proof that his grasp on his humanity was slipping away. “And if I refuse?”

  Her chin came up a notch, her eyes flickering to the camera on the ceiling before returning to meet his gaze. “Is there a reason you would?”

  “No, other than being tired of being poked and prodded.” He gestured toward the thick chart on the counter. “Do you have any idea how many trees died just so you can quantify me?”

  Some of the tension left her shoulders as she realized he wasn’t going to refuse. This time, anyway. “Let’s get it over with.”

  He followed her into a small room that held a narrow bed and yet another electronic console filled with gauges and switches and blinking lights. None of the Paladins liked this particular piece of machinery. It was their judge and their jury, a court where the accused was presumed guilty and had no chance to speak in his own defense.

  And the price for being convicted was swift and immediate execution.

  No matter how many times he’d been through the procedure, it never got easier. Very little frightened him anymore, but those tiny electrodes sticking into his scalp like tiny claws never failed to make his stomach roil and his head ache. He knew in his mind that he was still human enough to pass the test, but in his gut, where it counted, he feared what they would find when the machine chirped and buzzed as it recorded his brain waves.

  He stretched out on the bed, only dimly aware of the cool cotton sheets beneath his back. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his Handler to keep his thoughts from wandering down the ugly path of self-doubt. He’d always had a thing for brunettes with long legs, the kind made for riding high around a man’s waist. Then there were those melted chocolate eyes. He could just eat her up.

  Laurel’s scent teased his senses, a mixture of shampoo and soap and something that was uniquely her. He dug his fingers into the bedding. The more he was around her, the stronger the temptation just to touch her became. When she leaned over him to apply the last of the electrodes, he bit his lip to keep from moaning.

  Didn’t the woman have the good sense to keep her breasts out of his face? He badly wanted to lift his head and nuzzle them. He settled for sneaking a quick peek, up close and personal. Her shirt was pulled tight across her chest, leaving him little doubt that her breasts were perfectly shaped to fit a man’s hand, as well as his mouth. He bet they tasted sweet, like ripe berries and warm sunshine.

  He shifted, glad that his shorts were baggy enough to partially disguise his immediate erection. When Laurel stepped away, he let out a breath he’d hardly been aware of holding.

  “I’ll dim the lights. Just try to relax and think good thoughts.”

  As soon as the lights came down, she sat in the chair next to the bed and flipped the switch that would start the program running. He tried to relax, but it wasn’t working.

  “I know this isn’t any fun, Devlin.” Her voice was cool and soothing, her use of his first name a bit of a surprise.

  Her hand came to rest on his shoulder before slowly making its way down his arm to rest on top of his hand. He turned his palm up, threading his fingers through hers. They were both playing with fire, but right now he needed all the warmth he could get. Maybe she would have done as much for any of the Paladins, but he didn’t think so.

  None of them had ever mentioned her conducting herself other than strictly professionally, and if she had, most of them were shallow enough to want bragging rights and would be unlikely to keep their mouths shut. Even D.J. and Cullen would have found some way to mention it to him. That little worry slid away for the time being.

  Whenever he was hooked up to this machine, his sense of time was distorted. It rarely took longer than thirty minutes, but it always seemed far longer. Even if the results still proved him human enough to continue living, it marked his steady progression toward becoming Other.

  He’d never bothered to ask how close he was coming to the end. It was unlikely that Laurel would even answer the question. Besides, knowing wouldn’t change a thing. He would continue to fight and die alongside his comrades until his Handler revoked that privilege. That was something he was damn proud of.

  Gradually, he relaxed as his world narrowed down to the dim pool of light reflected from the amber and green lights on the console. Turning his head slightly, he could see Laurel’s profile and wondered where her thoughts were taking her as they waited in the silence.

  Even with his better-than-average eyesight, it was difficult to judge her mood from her still face. Maybe she was making a mental list of what she needed to pick up at the store on the way home from work. Or maybe she was as painfully aware of him as he was of her. Did she ever lie awake at night and wonder how it would be between them?

  He shouldn’t even think such thoughts. What kind of future did he have to offer any woman? Even if a woman could find it in her heart to love him, how could she love the monster he would inevitably become?

  The whir and beep of the machine signaled the end of the test, but when Laurel went to withdraw her hand from his, he clamped his fingers down and held it captive.

  “Mr. Bane, please.” So they were back to last names again.

  His temper slipped free. Jerking the electrodes off his scalp, he ignored the sting of the tiny wounds and freed himself from the tangle of wires. He surged to his feet, trapping his Handler between the console and his body.

  “I may be only a bunch of numbers to you, Dr. Young,” he snarled, “just another interesting specimen for you to study…”

  She looked up to protest his assessment of her, and he liked the way her pupils dilated and her nostrils flared in awareness of his extreme proximity. He stroked her wrist with the pad of his thumb, taking note of her quickened pulse.

  He gentled his voice to a seductive whisper. “But I’m still a man with a man’s needs, especially when it comes to a beautiful woman. Keep tempting me, and you’re likely to find out the hard way exactly what those needs are and what it takes to satisfy them.”

  Then he dragged her up against his chest. Her dark eyes settled on his mouth as her lips parted, as if in invitation. And just that quickly, the battle was lost as he surrendered to the temptation and heady taste of Laurel Young.

  Chapter 3

  Keeping her hand trapped within his, Devlin cradled her against the powerful muscles of his chest as his mouth plundered hers. Laurel was grateful for his strength, because at that moment not a single bone in her body would have supported her.

  His tongue teased and tasted her, making her hunger for more. All rational thought had been banished the second she’d given in to the impulse to comfort him while they waited for the machine to weigh and judge Devlin’s sanity. Judging by the outcome, maybe she should have been wear
ing the electrodes.

  She wanted nothing more than to absorb his taste and touch and sheer power. Her fantasies hadn’t even come close to the reality of having all that intensity focused solely on her.

  He traced the line of her jaw with hot, damp kisses until he reached the shell of her ear and traced its delicate curves with the tip of his tongue. Then he breathed deeply, the current of warm air sending a surge of pure need burning through her. She yanked off her lab coat, letting it fall to the floor at their feet.

  All of sudden she was tumbled back onto the bed with Devlin’s delicious weight crushing her into the mattress. She spread her legs to welcome him, relishing the intimate connection between their bodies. Her mouth felt swollen and bruised from the onslaught of his kisses. And his powerful hands were everywhere, touching her first through the flimsy protection of her shirt and then sliding beneath it. His callused fingertips worked her buttons loose, giving him free access to her breasts.

  He nuzzled his way down to them, his tongue setting her skin afire. When he unfastened her bra, he pushed himself up to stare down at her.

  “I was right.”

  She wanted to ask him about what, but then he dove down to capture the swollen tip of her breast. He growled with satisfaction as he lavished attention on it, using his lips and teeth and tongue in such wondrous ways. The tugging sensations sent shards of need cutting through her to settle deep inside, and she yearned to absorb his entire body into hers.

  The rasp of her zipper sliding down pleased her, his hand slipping inside her panties even more. His fingers tested her readiness, finding her already slick. Just that quickly, she was on the edge of shattering.

  Suddenly Devlin froze, his head cocked to one side as if listening to something beyond the scope of her hearing.

  “They’re coming.”

  He rolled off the bed, pulling Laurel to her feet in the same swift motion. She could only stare up at him, her mind unable to understand what he was trying to tell her.