Page 19 of Dark Shadow of Guilt

She jerked her head up, glaring at him. With a patch over one eye, blades at his hips, the sword on his back, and a frown on his face, he didn’t think he’d get a Mr. Congeniality award. He’d try to smile, but his skin might crack since he was out of practice.

Her fascinating blue eyes lit with a slight spark of understanding as she responded to his winged-assassin comment. “Like Ohngel?” she questioned, her voice strong even though she trembled.

So she’d heard of Ohngel. Likely from all his press on Earth. He was the strategist, the planner, the savior, the male as hot-blooded as his fiery feathers. Remi was the playboy, a master manipulator, while Ely was the thinker. Gareth had been the social one turned deceiver. That left Dom proud to be the blunt tool, the hard, unemotional blade of justice with a heart as dark as his black wings.

In character, he growled, admitting to himself he was tired of Ohngel-the-publicity-hound’s notoriety. “Exactly. Like your hero, I work for the good guys. Open the fucking door.”

Her mouth dropped wide, and she shook her head.

Now what was wrong?

He blew out an exasperated breath. When he popped the handle off the back door, she scrambled to the far side, shrinking away from his caring, outstretched hand.

Dom changed his approach. It was either that or he’d strong-arm the Earther. Since the OC had a soft spot for humans, negotiation was the wise move. He slid into the car to sit but avoided touching the female. “What’s the holdup? Let’s get outta here.” With his patience on empty, he wanted this search-and-rescue to end. There were Immortals out there who needed capture or extinction. He lacked the time and tolerance to care for the weak species.

Instead of obeying his kind offer, she shook her head.

Again.

He relaxed into the seat. “The name’s Dominion. Dom. My ... um ... associates and I have been looking for you. We heard about a human in Angor. You don’t belong here.”

“No shit,” she mumbled into her knees.

“I can get you home,” he offered, stifling an impatient growl.

“Home?” She jerked her head up and twisted her body toward him. She cleared her throat. “Praevus?”

“What about him?”

“You said you’re Dominion. He mentioned your name. Did he send you?”

“Fuck no.”

Tears streamed from her eyes, leaving rivulets through the dirt on her face.

Damn. I hate crying females.

She asked, “How do I know I can trust you?”

Dom sighed. “You don’t. This is one of those go-with-your-gut moments.”

Her gaze fixed on his eye patch as she sniffled back the boo-hoo-hoos, her legs still tucked in tight.

Best to throw the obvious out there. “Yeah. I’m scary.”

She nodded. “And really big.”

“That too. Look, female, this can go several ways.” He raised his forefinger. “One, I can walk away and let Haze and his band of pale-skinned bastards have you.” He lifted another digit. “Two, I can drag you out of the car.” A third joined the pair. “Or, three, you can keep your dignity, slide across the seat, and come out under your own power.”

Options were good. Of course, the first one was a no-go, even if she chose it. Dom didn’t mind lying for expediency’s sake. Her only real choices were the last two. She was coming with him. The how of it was up for grabs.

She glared his way, chewing her lower lip, thinking.

Great. A slow-witted human female who requires special handling and time to cogitate.

Dom stretched out a hand to give her an assist. She waved it off. “No. Don’t touch me. I’ll follow you.”

He unfolded from the backseat, stepped away from the car door, and leaned a hip against the fender. By crossing his arms over his chest, Dom believed it made him look patient.

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