Burning Dawn

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

THANE REELED.

After Lucien dropped the marriage bombshell, he went into detail about everything he’d seen.

Bjorn, bound to a rocky wall, helpless as a dark shadow approached. Obviously the queen. And when she reached him, the center of her darkness opened like a mouth, revealing an even blacker gloom. She enveloped him, until there was no sign of him.

What was she doing to him? Tormenting him? Violating him?

Knowing Bjorn would return soon and that he would not want Elin to witness his plight, Thane escorted her to her room. There was a bed now. A big, beautiful one, with four posters and designs carved into each.

“Thank you for what you did today. Everything you did. But it will be best if Bjorn doesn’t see you.” He explained the gist of the situation. “He won’t be...right when he returns.”

She clutched the collar of his robe. “What can I do to help?”

So determined. Another quality to admire about her. “Just stay in here and rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She sighed. “Okay.”

Even though Thane needed her with him, her mere presence soothing him, he forced himself to kiss her brow and shut her inside.

He spent the next few hours pacing in the sitting room alongside Xerxes. Finally, though, Bjorn returned, and he was as out of sorts as every time before. Pale, withdrawn. Trembling. Nauseous.

Acting as crutches, they led him into the bathroom. After he vomited the contents of his stomach, they cleaned him up and got him settled into bed.

There had to be a way to save him from such a terrible sentence.

Bjorn rolled to his side and curled into a ball, his arms drawn tight around his middle.

“We know where you go, and we can guess the horrors being done to you,” Thane said. “We’ll figure out how to save you.”

Bjorn closed his eyes, the length of his lashes casting menacing shadows over his cheeks. “She knew Lucien found me,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “She released me from my vow of silence so that I could tell you nothing can be done. She will never cut my ties to her.”

“We can make her,” Thane gritted. “Every demon has its weakness.”

“No. The shadows are not demons, though are often mistaken as such. They are Sine Lumine. Evil, yes. Depraved. That, too. They hunger for life.”

“They...feed off you?” Xerxes exclaimed.

Shame colored the warrior’s ashen face. “Only the queen does, and only a little at a time. The longer I live, the stronger she’ll become.”

“What does she take?” Thane demanded, horrified on his behalf.

Bjorn closed his eyes. “My...soul.”

All right. That was bad, but not insurmountable. His soul could be renewed with the Water of Life. Have to get more. For Elin and for Bjorn.

“Where’s your vial?” he asked.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s empty.”

To Thane, and Thane alone, Xerxes said, Mine is out, too.

Thane had a few drops, nothing more.

That would work for today, but not for the next visit. Which might come sooner than expected. The queen seemed to be summoning him more and more frequently.

Reaching into his air pocket, Thane projected to Xerxes, I’m going to go to every Sent One I know and try to buy their vials. After that, I’ll bribe people waiting in the line to approach the River. For now, give him whatever he needs of this. He handed over what remained of his vial.

Xerxes accepted with a nod.

“We won’t stop until you are free of the queen,” he said to Bjorn. “This is my vow to you.”

His friend shook his head. “No. I don’t want you caught in this.”

“Too bad. It’s done.” He strode from the bedroom. With only a backward look to Elin’s door, he shot out of the building and into the night sky.

He decided to go with bribery of strangers first—less complicated—and stopped at the Temple of Sol, Clerici’s home. The line to reach the River of Life was longer than he remembered. Wrap-around-the-world-several-times longer.

Amid glares and rebukes, he flew to the front, the gate, and stopped beside the female who would be allowed inside as soon as the Sent One on the other side left. He tried to buy her spot, and every spot within a mile behind her. No go. He would have threatened—and even killed—but like everyone else, he’d heard the mandate. To use force to obtain a place in line was to lose all rights to the Water. Forever.

How could he have known getting the Water would be more difficult once the whippings stopped?

He faced the crowd. Head held high, he announced, “I am Thane of the Three, and I’m looking to buy the Water of Life, however much or little you’ll sell me. I’m based at the Downfall. Once you have the Water, come find me and I will buy it—whatever your price.”

Knowing there was nothing else he could do here, he went to Zacharel’s cloud. His leader had no more. He went to Koldo. The warrior had no more. He went to Magnus and Malcolm, but the brothers claimed they needed it for their own life-and-death purposes.

Though he wanted to, he did not argue with them.

Jamilla offered half a bottle for one hundred demons’ heads. To which he agreed, as long as he could pay in some type of installment plan. They decided on twenty-five a week for four weeks.

Next he tried the female Sent Ones Elin would be battling at her next dodge-boulder game: Charlotte, Elandra, Malak and Ronen. The four were famous for their plans, schemes and troublemaking.

Their goal: to become the supreme leaders of the world and throw a “truly legit kegger.”

They were out.

He returned to the club, coming in from sky level, the sun bright and shining. He gave Bjorn the vial he’d gotten from Jamilla, and took the elevator to the main floor to meet with Adrian. The berserker had summoned him.

The building was emptied of guests—though on his way in, he’d noticed the courtyard was littered with sleeping female bodies, drunken snores echoing.

Adrian stepped from the bar, claiming his attention. “You have a visitor. It’s Ardeo,” he said, and motioned to the king of the Phoenix.

The male was on the other side of the room, already halfway to bombed.

Thane approached him warily. “Did your people reach you?”

Without glancing up from his nearly empty glass, Ardeo nodded. “They did. Came to thank you.”

“No thanks needed. A bargain was struck. I merely kept my end.”

The Phoenix king kicked the seat across from him, a command for Thane to sit.

Orders? In my own house? No. Thane crossed his arms over his chest. “Anything else?”

Ardeo shrugged, drained the few droplets in the glass, and stood. Swayed. “I spoke to a mutual acquaintance of ours,” he said, the words slurred. He patted Thane on the shoulder. “He sends his regards.”

A sharp pain cut through Thane’s stomach. Literally.

His brow furrowed with confusion as he glanced down. A blade had been shoved all the way to his spine.

Ardeo removed it, blood coating his hand. “My apologies. Malice said he would bring Malta back if I weakened you. Whatever the price, I have to have her back.” The blade clattered to the floor.

Thane stumbled back, clutching the wound to stem the flow of blood.

Adrian rushed over to block the only exit and await orders.

“Fallen angels lie,” Thane gritted to the king.

Expression sad, Ardeo nodded. “I know. But I was willing to risk it.”

“Then bear the consequences. Do it,” Thane commanded Adrian.

In a blink, the berserker seemed to grow and expand several inches. The color of his face changed, from bronzed to almost crimson. His eyes darkened to black, overtaking even the whites. He moved so fast, he was nothing more than a blur. One moment the king had four limbs and a head, the next...he didn’t.

Blood sprayed from opened arteries. The pieces and the torso thumped to the floor.

Adrian returned to his spot, his heavy panting the only evidence that he’d been the one to strike.

With a shaky hand, Thane reached into his air pocket for the vial of Water. Gone. With Bjorn. Can’t ever regret that. But now he wouldn’t heal nearly as fast.

“Lock the king’s parts in the dungeon, just in case he regenerates. Then take however long you need to calm.”

Adrian’s nod was clipped. He carried the pieces out of the room.

Thane, Elin shouted inside his head. He’s here. Orson is here.

Ignoring his pain, his weakness, he darted in the air, leaving the natural realm for the spiritual and misting through the walls. I’m coming, kulta.

I’m in your bedroom, not mine.

I’m almost there. He reached the top floor, stumbling as he landed. Demons swarmed the entire area, blocking him from the entrance to his room. Xerxes and a fully healed Bjorn were in the sitting area, fighting for their lives.

The blood of demons splattered the walls. Gnarled limbs littered the floor.

Thane summoned a sword of fire and pushed forward, hacking at the enemy along the way. But the more he fought, the less he could ignore the weakness caused by the gash. He was slower than usual, and several demons were able to swipe him with claws. Soon, his lack of speed allowed gleeful opponents to trap him in an ever-tightening circle, unable to gain any new ground and get to Elin.

He remembered Orson and his twisted desire for her. Desperation and fear, coupled with the wildest rage of his life, flooded him.

Hold him off, Elin, he commanded. I’ve been delayed. Do whatever you have to do to survive. Do you hear me?

There was no reply.

He wanted to command a response from her, but didn’t want to distract her. As he debated what to do, a demon scratched at him. He sliced through the offending arm. As the limb fell, another creature reached for him, poking at his injury and laughing. Thane cringed. But still he fought with all his might, willing to endure anything to reach his woman.

ELIN HADN’T STAYED in her bedroom. She’d crossed the bathroom in secret and camped inside Thane’s, knowing he would be fragile after dealing with Bjorn. She’d been determined to wait for him, no matter how long it took. She would comfort him and give him whatever he needed, even if he didn’t know he needed it.

The first thing she’d done was stretch out on the bed, and read the copy of Dodge Boulder: A True Alpha Dog Story Bellorie had loaned her. But she must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, a hard hand had settled on her shoulder and was shaking her, rattling her brain against her skull. Her eyelids had popped open—and Orson’s smug, smiling face had come into view.

Now she scrambled to the other side of the bed.

The warrior laughed as he withdrew a small dagger. “Your reaction cuts to the quick, girl. It truly does.”

Thane expected her to hold him off, and she didn’t have to wonder why. It sounded like World War III beyond the door.

“Stay away from me,” she spat at Orson.

“Or what? You’ll call me a terrible name?” Smiling evilly, he looked around the room. His every action was unhurried, as if he knew a secret she didn’t. “I see you’ve made yourself at home here with the Sent One. And you’re warming his bed, too, despite his reputation for cutting and running after only one night. What must you be doing to please him?”

“You’ll never know.” This male had taunted her for an entire year. A few times, he’d yanked her into a darkened corner and kissed her, squeezing her breasts and promising—threatening—to do more. Her fear of him had been absolute. But no longer. For the first time, she would fight back.

“Want to bet?” Quick as a blink, he dived across the bed in a bid to grab her.

Prepared for such a move, she darted out of the way and rushed to the dresser where she’d stored a few weapons she’d found in the treasure room, hoping to surprise Thane. She grabbed the first thing she touched in the top drawer. A pair of gold knuckles. Suckwad! But, okay, fine. They’d have to do.

Hot air brushed her back. Orson was closing in. No time to waste. She turned and swung, nailing him in the cheek. The bone instantly cracked—and the gold knuckles did something she wasn’t expecting. On impact, they released sharp, motorized spikes, slashing through the cracks in the bone.

Roaring, Orson batted at her. His fist collided with her skull, and though she saw stars, she held on. He tried to jerk away from her, but the motions only increased the speed of the spikes, one digging so deep and so far up it... Gah! Thank the Most High she’d been inoculated against violence. Orson’s eye popped from his head and rolled to the floor, and all he could do was watch with the other one, horrified.

Elin slid her fingers from the gold knuckles, but still the weapon remained attached to his face.

“You little whore!” He swung a meaty fist at her.

Oh, the pain! There was another explosion of stars across her vision as the taste of copper coated her tongue and caused her stomach to flip-flop.

Took worse hits at the last dodge-boulder practice. The knowledge empowered her. Grinning coldly, she climbed to her feet. Surprised, Orson glared at her with his one good eye.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” she taunted. “Because I’m suddenly wondering why I feared you at all.”

Huffing and puffing with indignation, he stomped toward her. Again, he swung a fist. This time she was prepared and went low, avoiding impact. As she came up, she slid her fingers back through the golden knuckles and jerked with all of her might. Bone and metal finally separated.

He grunted, spittle dripping from his mouth. Then he punched her in the stomach. Air abandoned her lungs, and she hunched over. A vulnerable position. One he used to his advantage, hitting the back of her head. She collapsed to her knees, gagging as acid raced up her throat.

“Yield to me.”

Not now, not ever. Elin crawled to her hands and knees and swung up a fist, smashing the golden knuckles into his crotch.

His high-pitched squeal rang out. Stumbling backward, he yanked at the spikes now embedded in his scrotum. The backs of his knees caught on the mattress and he fell.

She swiped up the dagger he dropped, and without pausing to consider her actions, or what her feelings would be when everything was said and done, she stabbed him in the stomach, once, twice, three times. Blood spurted. Warm blood. Warm blood all over her hands.

She staggered away from him.

As he lay panting, dying, he glared over at her. “I’ll come back,” he choked out. “I’ll come back and repay the favor. You have my word. Only, I’ll make you watch me kill your lover first.”

Teeth bared in a scowl, she waved the dagger at him. “If you think you’re tougher than Thane, you’re dumber than you look. And trust me. You look dumber than a box of rocks. Now, I’ll leave you to your death.” She opened the door, intending to go out and help Thane however she could.

A horde of demons shoved their way inside the room, pushing her aside.

The creatures converged on Orson, as if they’d scented his blood and nothing else would suffice. They began eating his flesh...muscle...bone. He fought as best he could, but as weak as he was, it did him no good. He lost his other eye. He lost his throat, his heart, his intestines.

He became an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Breath wheezed through her nose. Elin knew Orson would never regenerate. Not from this.

When there was nothing but Orson’s spleen—not as tasty?—glowing red eyes lifted and focused on Elin...

Heart drumming erratically, she backed away slowly. “I’m sour. Probably bitter. I suggest you wait for someone sweet,” she said. “It’ll be better for your digestion. Honest.”

The creatures advanced on her.