BloodBorne Ch. 06

"Someone needs to catch me up on what is going on," Roman stated. "Obviously Sherlaine is back and is after the older one?" He glanced at Xan who was in the process of yawning loudly. She nodded tiredly at him and he glanced at Liam, who'd boldly ran his hand over the expanse of her back as a show of comfort.

"They're kind of a thing," Draco said as he observed his brother.

"Interesting. So what do they want from her? She doesn't have any abilities does she?"

"She's Esmali," Andrae informed him. "Limani to be exact."

Roman nodded thoughtfully before asking, "So what are you protecting?"

"A key," Xan said on another yawn. She was aware of the tense moment of silence after she spoke, but the fatigue bogging down on her eradicated her need to care.

"What key?" Liam asked.

"I don't know. I heard one of them say it." Xan rested her head on Liam's shoulder and yawned again. "A key to what?"

"Take her to bed," Alexis ordered. There was no use in getting any answers from Xan in her present condition. "We can go through this again later."

Liam looked at Andrae who still carried Xion, fully prepared to take care of the sisters himself. His brother looked more than comfortable holding the child however, and it almost seemed as if the half demon had been a parent to her from birth. For a moment, Liam was reminded of Nadia and her intense desire to have children. The High Council forbade her and Andrae from the blessing of breeding, claiming that they had to pass individual tests to prove that their relationship would not threaten The Brethren. And now Nadia was dead, and his brother would never have children. Andrae only wanted Nadia's children. "You got her?" When his brother nodded, Liam took Xan upstairs. His initial thought was to take her to the room she shared with her sister, but he'd turned in the opposite direction and took her to his room instead. Watching her fight with Sherliane and knowing how close he'd come to losing her gave him an intense need to keep her to himself for a while, to keep her close. This wasn't protectiveness he was feeling, no; this was something more, something deeper. Xan was more than capable of protecting herself; he'd seen her skills and had even helped to improve them. No, the urge inside of him was fierce and consuming. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

It was scary as hell.

Liam sighed as he placed Xan on his bed and nearly hated the fact that he liked seeing her surrounded by the blankets that held his scent. Because she was pretty much asleep on her feet, she didn't care about the fact that his bed wasn't made. This actually made for better sleeping as he didn't have to worry about turning the bed down before he set her in it. Liam gently dropped her onto the bed, making sure to keep her feet off until he could take her shoes off. Once the simple task was completed, he arranged the blankets over her, careful not to stare too long. Becoming distracted by the peaceful look on her face was not the best idea. On a shaky breath, he turned to walk out of the room.

"Liam?"

He turned sharply at the weak sound of her voice. "You've been awake this whole time?"

"Off and on."

"You need to sleep." He walked to the bed and stared down at her. He couldn't decide if he was annoyed or amused by how hard she fought the sleep taking over her. The second she reached for his hand, he found himself feeling anything but annoyed or amused. Warmth spread throughout his body, nearly overwhelming him with the sensation. "Xan, what are you..."

"I don't want you to go." She weakly tugged on his hand until he gave in and sat down beside her. "Stay."

The warmth became a pleasant burning that churned in his stomach. "Until you fall asleep?" When she shook her head, he stared at the mesmerizing angles of her face. Her skin was oddly flushed, a possible effect of her battle with fatigue. She continued to hold onto his hand, an obvious sign of her stubbornness. He had to admit that he liked this new vulnerable side to her, so much so that he could not find it within himself to force her to go to bed angry. He'd stay and wait for the effects of his abilities to wear off, allowing himself the opportunity to soak in the very well hidden feminine side of her personality. As he held onto her hand, Liam toed off his boots and settled himself beside her. Xan still held onto his hand, which made it impossible for him to adjust the blankets around himself. "Let go of my hand."

"You'll leave," she said on a yawn.

She really did not know what she was saying, he realized with a grin. "I'm not going anywhere." The simple statement seemed to placate her enough to let go of his hand. The second he'd adjusted himself onto his back, however, she rolled herself into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder and placing her hand directly over his heart. A rush of happiness washed over Liam, both confusing and comforting him as he lay beside her. Her body was warm against his and fit perfectly. Her gentle, even breath brushed against his chin as he stared down at her.

He was mesmerized by the angles of her face, at the gentle way her lips parted in sleep. An overwhelming sense of happiness washed over him, and he was nearly undone by the sensation. As much as he wanted to become enraged, he was only comforted by the feeling. Liam shifted and turned onto his side and possessively pulled her into his arms, throwing an arm around her waist. Her light feminine scent made him sigh in contentment. Impossible thoughts ran through his mind; thoughts of passionate fights followed by passionate sex, thoughts fighting and training together, thoughts of a life with her. What was supposed to be a simple attraction to the insolent woman had somehow turned into something much too strong for him to ignore.

And as he drifted off into an unexpected sleep, he found himself smiling.

* * * * *

Xan didn't have to open her eyes to know that she wasn't in her room. Everything was different; the feel of the mattress, the angle of the sunlight in her face, and even the warmth of the room. One inhalation was enough to know that she was in his room. A vague memory of being taken to bed made her groan inwardly. Had she really asked him to stay? Xan opened one eye and groaned again at the sight of Liam sleeping beside her. She wondered if his lashes had always been so long, and at just a shade darker than his hair, it was no wonder the brilliance of his eyes mesmerized her. Even in sleep he wore that annoying look that aggravated her. But damn, he was beautiful. If only he remained this tolerable all the time.

Xan sighed again when she realized she did not want to move. It was nice lying next to him, enveloping herself in nearly everything that was him. The conflicting emotions rolling through her were nearly overwhelming. How was it possible to severely dislike a man she didn't know how to stay away from? Yes, there was some sort of intense connection between them and she couldn't deny that she was attracted to him. But that wouldn't get them anywhere, especially with the threat of Sherlaine hanging over them. Once the bastard was gone, she and Xion would have no choice but to go on with their lives, which probably meant that she would never see him again. Logic told her to let it go, to ignore the feelings she had for him because she needed a level head. But as she looked at him, the only thing she seemed to want was to lie with him forever. With Liam, she didn't feel so alone. With Liam, she wasn't just the young guardian demon fighter who'd lost her only friend in the world.

"You planning on laying there and starting at me for the rest of your life, or are you going to open up your mouth and tell me what's bothering you?"

She should have figured the man was awake. "Rat bastard." She knew she should have kept up pretenses and got out of bed, but there was no use in lying to herself; she wanted to be here. "Nothing is bothering me."

"Liar." Laim kept his eyes closed as he reveled in the feeling of sharing his space with Xan. He'd never experienced such intimacy before and where he once figured that he would have hated being in such a relaxed state with a woman, he had to admit that he only wanted to get closer to her. This was the first time he'd ever slept for more than two hours at a time; sleep was never an easy thing for him, yet another reason for his constant abrasiveness. He liked sleeping next to her. A little too much. "What were you thinking about?"

"Why are you so angry all the time?" She hadn't expected to ask that question, but the rigidity of his face as he feigned sleep made her curious about his past. She was always curious, but this was the first time she was determined to get an answer. "What happened?" He tensed beside her, a sure sign that she should drop the subject, but it was because of the tenseness and the obvious discomfort with the subject, that she knew he had to talk to her. This had to be one of the stupidest ideas she'd ever come up with, she mused as she reached over to trail the tips of her fingers over his cheeks. Her only excuse was that she wanted to know him as no other person had ever known him. Liam told her that night on the balcony that his brothers didn't know the full story about his past. Even she knew that he'd kept it bottled up for too long. She was determined to be the one he confided in. "Talk to me, Liam."

His first instinct was to yell, to get her out of his face. She had no business asking about his past, about what made him the way he was. She was nothing but an insolent shit of a woman who didn't know when or even how to keep her mouth shut. "Why?"

"Because I want you to know that you can trust me, even if you want to kill me all the time."

He should have yelled, should have told her to go back to the depths of hell she came from, but as his body hummed from her light touch, he couldn't find the voice to deny her. "I always knew that I was different from the other children in my village. I would watch as their mothers coddled and fussed over them and wonder why the simple sight of me disgusted my mother. Unless she needed something from me, I never existed to her."

"What do you mean?"

"Ivelda was the most beautiful woman any man had ever seen, but she never married. No man would have a woman who'd had a child out of marriage. She blamed her social standing on me and made it her duty in life to punish me in any way she could; there were days when I had to steal if I wanted to eat. Well, the days I managed to get out of the cage she locked me in to keep out of her way. So while I spent the bulk of my days picking locks or stealing, she had to fend for herself, working hard labor to make sure she had clothes on her back."

Xan frowned at the statement. "What about the clothes on your back?"

"My only friend at the time, a boy a few years older than me, was kind enough to give me the clothes he no longer needed. He also helped me out of the cage most of the time. He died suddenly when I turned twelve." Liam took a breath as he paused, preparing himself for the deeper insights into his past. "The year I turned twelve was also the year I learned why my mother hated me so much.

"She'd found herself a lover, a mean son of a bitch name Emregon who drank all day and saw fit to make sure I remembered what a piece of shit I was. He didn't care that I looked years older at the time; he knew that the naive little redhead boy so desperate for his mother's approval would do anything if it meant getting into her good graces. He went as far as to make her tell me that I was to endure whatever he put me though because it would prove my devotion to her."

"She allowed him to abuse you?"

"It was better than him abusing her, right? And besides, I was the pain in the ass son who was a waste of space."

"But you loved her."

"And did what she asked." He sighed as he rolled onto his back, keeping his eyes closed to keep from having to look at her. "One night he got particularly drunk and beat me so viciously that I could barely breathe. Both he and Ivelda left me there to die. I can still remember the way they planned on getting rid of my body; like I was some stray dog that died in their yard."

Xan felt her blood heat dangerously. What the hell kind of mother would let such a thing happen to her own child? She wished she could travel back in time and beat the crap out of the woman. Ivelda didn't deserve a son like Liam; even at his worst, he was too good for her. "They buried you alive?"

Liam shook his head as he said, "I was completely healed by morning. I came into power during the night." He let out a cynical snort as he said, "Emregon thought I'd sold my soul to a demon to live so he brought it upon himself to kill me. Beat the shit out of me every day for weeks. I realize now that he was scared; how did you get rid of a child who couldn't die? But Emregon was a persistent son of a bitch; tried several times. I once woke up with a knife in my chest. Fucker tried to kill me while I was passed out from a beating. Much to his everlasting frustration, I lived. It wasn't long before he decided there was a better use for me.

"I was forced into my first Dymos two months later. Got the shit kicked out of me by a Compolion demon. I can still remember how deep its claws went into me each time it swung. I squealed like a tortured pig. But it didn't stop; you know how those fights are."

"No one leaves the ring until one is dead or near it."

"And I was the idiot who kept getting up to find a way out of the ring. Ivelda was there watching. Hoping that the fight would be the end of me. I thought that if I ran to her and begged enough, she would take me home."

"But it kept beating you."

"Until it was too tired to hit anymore. And that's when I realized the rules of the game. I killed it the second I had a chance." Liam cleared his throat as he fought back the swell of emotion threatening to take over him. It pained him to talk about his childhood, but the more he shared with Xan, the more he seemed to cope with the issues he fought to repress. She'd taken hold of his hand while he spoke and the simple act of comfort was enough to begin the healing stitches that would mend the broken parts of his soul. It was her touch that gave him the motivation to keep talking. "I won the prize money and one look at Emregon and I knew that he would never lay a hand on me again. He'd never have to; the demons would take care of that for him until the right one got rid of me for good."

"Why didn't you say no?"

"The night I won that fight was the first night she'd ever smiled at me. I knew right then that if I kept winning, she'd accept me and give me what I needed most.

"So I kept fighting. Eventually I learned how to defend myself instead of waiting for the opponent to get too tired to keep going. Soon enough I was well known in the and had the respect of some pretty serious demons."

"But not your mother."

Liam remained quiet for a moment as he thought over Xan's comment. "I was nothing more than her meal ticket out of poverty. If I lost a fight, I wasn't allowed back home until I won the next one."

"You didn't leave?"

"With what money? Whatever I won, Emregon kept. I never saw a cent. He figured that they were owed for the care they'd given me. For their generosity.

"I fought for eight years before a merchant who I'd seen countless times as a child befriended me and showed me the idiocy of my ways, how foolish I was to become a slave to someone who never loved me. Who hated me because I was the constant reminder of what she couldn't have. I left home just after my twentieth birthday, demon fighting to make enough money to survive on my own. My only friends were the demons I circulated with; they usually died within a week or two of befriending me. I figured it was a fitting punishment for walking away from Ivelda. But I accepted the punishment; it's amazing how much self worth a person discovers when he isn't constantly being fed a range of insults that suggests otherwise. I'd decided to keep fighting until the fighting killed me. There was nothing I did better.

Around my twenty-third birthday, that same merchant asked me to meet him about a very lucrative arrangement he wanted me to try. I had nothing else going on at the time so I agreed to see what he was about. I go to this field in the middle of nowhere and there are eight other men standing there. The first thing I can think of is a royal rumble where the winner takes all. I'm getting ready to do what I have to do and the merchant shows up with these two young looking twins. He starts in on this speech about how we all came from homes with no fathers and how he was there to reveal our influential purposes in life."

At that, Xan sat up. "You mean to tell me..."

"Yes, the merchant I'd trusted, who'd known everything about what I'd gone through and did nothing about it, was none other than Roycelyn, daddy fucking dearest. It was time for his progenies to become his generals so I had to stop the childish demon fights and the making unsuitable friends."

She gasped in horror at the implication of his words. "He's the reason you had no friends."

"Royce felt that the adversity of loss and abuse would turn me into one hell of a merciless and blood thirsty general." Liam opened his eyes and looked at the concern plastered on Xan's face. He'd expected pity or better yet, amusement. But there was nothing but that touching concern that made him tighten his hold on her hand. In her concern he found strength, and in that strength there was a healing that eased the painful tightness in his chest. "I'm so mean because I never had parents growing up. Neither Royce nor Ivelda saw me as a child. I was a tool; nothing more than a common attack dog trained to do their bidding. And I did it because I believed it was the only way to get what I needed."

"Praise and acceptance."

Liam nodded solemnly and turned his head to face away from her. He wasn't comfortable with letting her see his face when he was so vulnerable. He couldn't give her a weapon to use against him. "I barely trust my own brothers on a good day because I am convinced that everyone around me only wants what I can do."

"Piss people off?" she asked to lighten the mood.

He smiled at the comment. "I'm nothing more than an attack dog, Xan. Nobody wants me around unless they need something killed. I have no real friends outside of my brothers because I don't want anyone else to die for knowing me. I push people away because I don't want to give them the power to hurt me." A ball of pain settled in the pit of his stomach as he realized that he made a mistake telling her the truth of his past. He'd revealed too much, showed her too much of himself. "You can get the fuck out now."

As much as she wanted to take the bait and get into a massive blowout with him, she knew that the move was counterproductive. He deserved her compassion and understanding. Not her malice. "No."

"I said get out."

"I said no."

"God fucking damn it, Xan, I don't-" He stopped when she placed her hand over his mouth. He turned to look at her with the intention of shoving her out of his room himself, but stopped when she spontaneously leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his left temple. She followed the move with a kiss to his right temple. His lips brushed against her neck as she loomed over him and his heart jumped in reaction. So did his cock. "Xan..."

"I'm not going to lie to you, Liam; I do want something from you." She increased the pressure of her hand on his mouth when he moved to argue. "I want you to shut up and let me kiss you." A satisfied grunt accompanied her smile as she stared into his surprised eyes. As she slowly removed her hand from his mouth, she leaned down and kissed him softly, gently brushing her lips over his. He remained motionless beneath her, but she didn't mind; instead she increased the pressure of her lips on his. Soon, he began to respond and moved his mouth against hers. Xan placed a hand on his chest and moaned at the feel of his heartbeat against her open palm. She moaned again when he cupped the back of her head with his hand and tilted it to deepen their kiss. Within moments, their tongues moved together, both tasting and teasing the other. Heat swelled with her as her body flattened against his. Liam's other hand moved to her bottom, gripping and squeezing the flesh deliciously as he plundered the cavern of her mouth. She squirmed against him helplessly, gasping as he rolled them over. The pressure of his body on hers overwhelmed and overheated her, making her hungry for more. Xan fisted her fingers in his hair as he moved his lips to the sensitive skin on her neck. Coils of heat and delicious pressure pooled to the juncture of her thighs, forcing her to move restlessly beneath him. A part of her told her that they should stop, that they were going too far much too quickly, but as his hand moved to the sensitive mound of her breast, the only thought running through her mind was that she would die if he ended the wonderful torture.