Burning Dawn

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ELIN MARVELED. “It’s...it’s...” Almost as cool as finding the chocolates, novels and roses in her room this morning. And Thane’s note...oh, sweet fancy, his note.

Last night, the man had kicked her out of his room. And yet, the very next day he’d sent her a note that said, You are my good. What was up with him? Did he like her or not?

Either way, she wanted it to stop...never stop...but, oh, every time he did something nice for her, she fell a little deeper under his spell...and her fear of discovery intensified.

“Dude,” Bellorie said. “You’re gawking, and it’s taking attention away from me. In case you haven’t figured it out, attention is my crack.”

“News flash. I figured that out at meeting one. But we’re in the clouds, and it’s like Rodeo Drive meets the Middle Ages, and I’m a little overwhelmed.”

The sun shone brightly, but it wasn’t too hot. The sky was a clear baby-blue, such a tranquil shade. Winged men, women and creatures flew this way and that. Along the cobbled streets, immortals of every race manned booths, hawking their wares, while a plethora of potential buyers ambled past.

“Upper Class Immortal 101, by Professor Hotcakes,” Bellorie said. “There are three different levels in the heavens. Thane’s club is perched at the edge of the third, the lowest, which is known for its hedonism. We are now a mile from the Downfall, at an outdoor shopping center with vendors selling everything from waffles-on-a-stick to rides on the backs of enslaved...whatever, take your pick. Clothes optional. You can have anything if the price is right.”

The other girls had shopped yesterday, as planned, but the Harpy had waited for Elin to return from her “errand” for Thane.

Her lips burned as she remembered the kiss. Her breasts ached. Her skin tingled. Carnal heat pooled between her legs.

Even though they’d put an end to things—hadn’t they? That note... She craved him more than ever.

Why hadn’t he sought her out to talk about things?

“So, where do you want to start?” Bellorie asked.

Elin pulled her mind out of the depressing gutter. “Clothes. That’s where I want to start and finish.” No reason to spend her precious money on anything else. Except maybe that door handle. It was shaped and colored like in a human hand. Très cool. The bedroom she shared with the girls could use a little of her personality.

But what if it really was a human hand? Avoid the knob!

“Excellent choice.” Bellorie nodded. “I’m eager to see you out of the classic hobo style you arrived in.” She led Elin down the street, shouldering people out of the way without preamble.

The air thickened with perfumes and desserts and...meat pies? Her mouth watered.

“Changed my mind,” Elin said, clutching her rumbling stomach. “Let’s start and end with food. Clothes can have the middle.”

“Very well. But we gotta get you loaded with cash first.”

After selling one of her necklaces, she consumed three meat pies, which were better than anything she’d ever tasted, except Thane, then two chocolate cupcakes and four peanut butter scones—better than even Thane. Maybe.

“Where do you put it?” Bellorie asked, gaze raking over her minimal curves.

“I guess we’ll find out.” She hadn’t eaten like that in...ever.

“By the way. What you’re currently tasting? That’s real food. Whatever you’re making at the club is...not.”

Hey! “I’m getting better.”

“Bonka Donk, you’re getting worse. This morning’s brownies can be used in our next dodge-boulder game.”

Elin sighed. Baking wasn’t as much fun as she remembered. Maybe it was time to reevaluate her life goals.

What madness is this? Bay had dreamed of opening a bakery, and now she was going to kill it the way the Phoenix had killed him? No! She had to do it, in his memory. His honor.

Especially since she had already betrayed him with Thane.

Despair danced at the edge of her mind, but she pulled a Bellorie and gave it the finger. This day would not be spoiled!

With Bellorie at her side, she talked and laughed as she spent the rest of her “go wild” money on a new wardrobe. She bought a couple of pairs of jeans, a pair of leather pants—what?—a dozen pretty tops, a few summer dresses, workout tanks and shorts, lingerie, pajamas, boots, tennis shoes, high heels and a robe.

“Everything will be delivered to the club by the end of the day,” Bellorie had told her earlier.

She had protested. “No, I—” Or rather, she’d tried to protest.

“Can’t carry it, you don’t have the biceps,” the girl had interjected. “And I’m not going to help because I need my pimp-hands free.”

But she hated the thought of letting the prized items out of her sight, even for a few hours. Mine, all mine.

“Come on,” Bellorie said now, tugging her from Vladmir’s Closet. “Axel told me he has a booth today, and I don’t want to miss him.”

“Axel?”

“You met him last night, at Thane’s table. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes.”

Most Beautiful, the male she’d threatened with arsenic. Great.

His booth was at the end of the street, white scarves acting as walls and dancing in a gentle breeze. He offered no clothes, no foods, no jewels or furniture. He sat in the center of the empty stall, leaning back in a chair, his hands folded over his middle, his legs outstretched, his wings spread.

He grinned when he spotted them, his entire face lighting up and, somehow, making him more beautiful. “Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite Harpy and Thane’s favorite human. We weren’t properly introduced, lovely. You’re Elin. I’m Axel. And, don’t worry. I know how this works. I tell you my name, and you say nothing—because you’ve fainted.” He paused for several dramatic seconds, waiting.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

His grin grew wider. “So how’d it go last night with Mr. Won’tsharemytoys?”

I am a strong, confident woman and I won’t blush. “What are you selling?” she asked, ignoring his question.

“Blow jobs,” he replied without missing a beat, and she blinked in surprise.

Bellorie didn’t fight her urge—she did roll her eyes. “What he means is, he’s willing to let women suck him off if they pay him with new and exciting weaponry.”

“And there isn’t a line?” Elin asked drily.

Unoffended, he patted his lap. “Take a seat and I’ll show you why I’m offering such an exceptional deal.”

The wicked gleam in his eyes... Yeah, she’d been right to view him as a candidate. He clearly knew his way around a female body. But only one man tempted her to plow full steam ahead, and Axel wasn’t him. “No, thanks.”

He shrugged, not even a little bit disappointed. “Your loss.”

“So, the reason we’re here...” Bellorie prompted. “You wanted information about William the Ever Randy, aka the Panty Melter, and I heard something last night. A Fae came into the bar, said William’s daughter, some girl named White, was murdered in his realm by a Phoenix named Petra.”

Petra. Kendra’s aunt. According to gossip at the bar, the girl was dead. Like, never-coming-back dead. Someone must have eaten her heart—which meant she’d actually had one. Surprise, surprise.

Axel jolted upright, the teasing light extinguished from his eyes. “I knew that. But what else did you hear?”

“William the Panty Melter and his sons, Red, Green and Black, disappeared immediately afterward. William was later seen with the Lords of the Underworld, but the boys haven’t been seen or heard from since.”

Elin had no idea what they were talking about, and strolled to the booth to the left. Her gaze traced over the items for sale—jewelry—only to land on a big, strong Sent One. Merrick, she realized, the lead singer of Shame Spiral. Dark hair shagged around a face that had to be the epitome of beauty. Long, dark lashes shadowed eyes of the most luminous silver.

His only imperfection was the big bruise marring his jaw. He must have been in a fight.

Perfect. He was a brawler. He could be a candidate again, since Thane might have gone from hot-and-cold to permanently cold.

Forgetting the note?

No. Still just majorly confused about it.

Merrick grinned when he spotted her, the slow bloom of welcome unbelievably sexy. “I do remember you,” he said, confusing her. He closed in on her. “You’re the human, and I did not sleep with you.”

“Uh. Correct.” He smelled good. Like, really good. Dark, romantic and spicy, as if he’d just stepped out of Arabian Nights. But for some reason he did nothing for her hormones.

“I never realized Thane was the possessive type.”

“I don’t understand,” she replied, her heart rate increasing at the sound of his name.

Merrick’s grin widened. “He warned me away.”

“From what?”

“You.”

“Me?” She thumped her chest to make sure they were talking about the same “you.”

“I don’t know what gave him the impression I planned to make a move—”

Her moan stopped him. She did. She knew. She’d mentioned Merrick’s name to Thane.

Merrick’s eyes twinkled. “But you do, I see.”

“Yes, and I’m sorry. So sorry. What did he do to you?” And why am I aroused by the thought that Thane went fists of thunder on another guy?

“Merrick,” a whining female voice called before Elin could finish her reply. “I miss you already.”

Merrick took Elin’s hand, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he kissed her knuckles. “Make Thane beg you for it. The hardest battles have the sweetest victories.” Then he was off.

His words, though seemingly delivered with an ulterior motive—that amusement did not bode well—haunted her long after. Make Thane beg for her? Yes, please. No. Bad Elin. But...she wanted to be a prize worth winning.

Make up your mind already! You want him, you don’t, you want him again.

In an effort to distract herself, she walked to the next booth. Thousands of pelts greeted her. Some were from animals she recognized...some she didn’t.

Thane wanted her all to himself?

Ugh. Don’t go there, either. She picked up the most beautiful, a black and white in a mesmerizing pattern, with a shimmery inlay. Soft. Warm, as if it were an electric blanket. The card attached said it was made from the hair of a unicorn and griffin hybrid.

But seriously, Thane wanted her all to himself?

The owner spotted her. A six-foot-three Amazonian warrior woman.

Elin had no plans to buy. Her money went toward necessities—like heels and leather pants—or into savings. End of story. She glanced away, hoping to avoid a sales pitch. Her gaze caught on a sight she’d hoped to never see again, and she cried out with dismay.

There was Ardeo, the king of the Phoenix. Though he looked far different than she remembered, his dark hair standing on end, his hazel eyes bloodshot, and his once full cheeks now gaunt. Beside him was Orson, the second-in-command of the Firebird army.

The two males stalked down the row of shops determinedly, menace in every step. They scanned every booth, obviously searching for something—or someone.

Thane?

Or Elin?

What if they told Thane her secret?

Sickness gave birth to panic, both burning her chest. Part of her wanted to palm her glass shard and go to town on Orson’s face, something, anything to punish him for his part in her father’s and Bay’s deaths. Part of her knew that would merely create more problems.

Whatever proves necessary, my darling, do it. Survive. Do not allow my sacrifice to be in vain.

Decision made. Elin threw the rest of her money at the Amazon and said, “I’ll take the blanket. If that’s not enough, contact Thane at the Downfall and he’ll pay.” I hope.

As she raced to Axel’s booth—use him for protection—she pulled the pelt around her, covering her hair and shielding most of her face and body.

For you, Momma. But deep down, Elin was ashamed by her behavior. There had to be a better way to save herself. A way that wouldn’t trample on her self-respect.

“—invite to the Lords, no problem,” Bellorie was saying. “Uh, what are you doing, Bonka Donk?”

“Hide me,” Elin commanded, suddenly clammy. The Phoenix could ruin her in several different ways. “Don’t talk to the warriors, okay? Don’t talk to them, and don’t listen to them. Send them away. Okay? Yes?”

Bellorie frowned at her.

Axel maintained his casual pose.

Neither understood the danger level.

Elin dropped to the Sent One’s side, as if she was his slave, and bowed her head. Perfect timing. Two sets of scuffed leather boots came into view. Her heart thundered against her ribs, continually coming into contact with the heat of the panic—a match about to light and torch her.

Perhaps she was more Phoenix than human after all.

“You are a Sent One.” Orson’s voice. Deep. Harsh. Rough.

Making her shudder. With fear...and rage. Can’t fight a dragon before you fight a lion and bear.

“Is this State the Obvious day?” Axel asked, and he sounded genuinely curious. “If so, I want a turn. You’re ugly, and ridiculously stupid.”

The Phoenix warrior sucked in a breath. “Watch your tongue, winger, or you’ll lose it.”

It was common knowledge Sent Ones were allowed to kill demons, and no one else. Unless, of course, they were being held against their will. Right now, Axel wasn’t being held against his will. He was at a major disadvantage.

“We’re here for Thane. Do you know him?” Orson demanded.

Why wasn’t Ardeo speaking? He was king.

And what did they want with Thane? The captives? Probably. So...maybe, if Elin stayed out of sight, she wouldn’t be mentioned and her secret would stay safe.

“Bellorie, darling,” Axel said, checking his cuticles. “They’re boring me.”

“My reward?” she asked, confusing Elin.

“Double.”

“Deal.”

A second later, before Elin could even track the girl’s movements from beneath the blanket, Bellorie jabbed her hand through Orson’s chest, grabbed his heart, and jerked it out. The organ beat twice more before stopping.

The warrior collapsed on the ground, dead.

Blood dripped from between Bellorie’s fingers.

Blood...blood...blood sprayed from her father’s head as it rolled. Blood dripped from Bay’s broken body as it slumped over the table. Blood smeared her mother’s thighs as she clutched her dead baby.

Ice doused the heat inside Elin. A scream brewed in the back of her throat, quickly escaping. Another followed close on its heels—then another. Maybe Ardeo saw her face. Maybe he didn’t. She didn’t care anymore. Couldn’t stop screaming as the king of the Phoenix swooped up his second-in-command and raced away, most likely hoping to get him somewhere safe so that he could regenerate.

“Quiet,” Axel commanded.

She tried to obey, she really did, but the screams just kept coming. Blood...a pool of red...the scent of it in the air...old pennies. Familiar. Wafting from the two men she loved more than life. Then from her mother and only sibling—her precious baby brother.

Strong arms banded around her and lifted her off the ground. Elin fought with every bit of her strength, swinging her arms, kicking her legs. Biting. Scratching. She would act like a warrior and battle to the death. Screw survival at any cost!

The arms released her, and she fell; she must have been higher up than she’d realized, because she lost her breath when she landed, angry pains tearing through her side. And still the screams emerged, though they were softer now, mere rasps of broken breath.

“What’s wrong with her?” she thought she heard Bellorie ask.

“I don’t know, but I’ve summoned Thane,” Axel replied, his tone grim.

“He won’t come for a bottom-level employee. He—”

“Is already here.”

Suddenly blond curls and electric blues consumed Elin’s line of vision. Thane’s beautiful face was streaked by soot. There were vivid cuts on his forehead and cheek, but at least the purity of his scent replaced the old pennies, and the heat of his body chased away the chill of panic.

“Elin, look at me.”

Struggling to breathe, she focused on the beauty of him rather than the injuries.

“You’re safe now. I need you to calm.”

Have to make him understand. “Help me get it off. Please, Thane. Help me get it off.” She realized she was sprawled flat on her back in the middle of the street, and Thane was crouched beside her, his wings wrapped around her, shielding her from the curiosity of others.

“What do you need me to get off you, kulta?”

“The...the blood.” Even hate the word. “Get it off.”

“I see no blood.”

“It’s there. I know it is. And I need it off. Please.” She gasped. The blood had even spread to him. His wings...they were red. Everything was red!

“Kulta.”

Hot tears streaked down her cheeks as she sagged into a panting, boneless puddle. “Please.”

“Did someone harm you?” he asked, his tone so quiet she barely heard him.

“Please.”

Frowning, he tenderly cleaned her face with strokes of his thumb. “All right. I’ll take you home, and wash you.”

“Hate to break up the party,” Axel said, “but two Phoenix warriors were here looking for you, my man. They were pretty upset.”

Panic hit Elin. If Thane hunted Ardeo and Orson...if the three had a little chat...

Her secret would not be a secret anymore.

Elin began to fight.

Hatred and determination fought for dominance in Thane’s expression, but still he cooed softly to her, reassuring her that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. When finally she calmed, he said to Axel, “Take Bellorie to Xerxes, and tell the warrior of the Phoenix.” He scooped Elin into his arms, cradled her close to his chest, and shot straight into the air.