Dreams of a Dark Warrior

FORTY-ONE

“No!” The Valkyrie raised her leg at the last minute, kicking him back, then threw the sword across the clearing.

She hadn’t run that steel through Declan, though he’d all but forced her to.

“Why can’t you do it?” he bellowed.

“I don’t know!” She sounded dazed. “Do you really want me to? You’re that miserable?”

When he’d been staring down that sword, he’d accepted death. But now he realized that if he died, she’d have one less protector. He had to get her off this island first.

“You don’t deserve my mercy,” she said, her voice breaking. Tears welled in her eyes. The sight of them pained him far worse than that sword ever could have.

“No. I don’t.” Still, he had the mad urge to explain his actions, to explain why he’d grown so callous to immortals, why he’d believed her kind had to be controlled. Why it’d fallen to him.

The training that made me a monster.

Yet he knew he could never make her understand.

“I’ve been tortured before, Chase. But never like this. They talked about golf and movies while they …”—she bit back a sob—“while they played with my womb.”

Warring impulses raged inside him. Declan wanted to yell with wrath, to comfort her, to annihilate any who’d dared touch her.

“You promised me I’d beg. Oh, how I did. And I will always hate myself for that. I begged you to make it stop! You can’t comprehend what it’s like! The violation …”

“Maybe I comprehend more than you think!” Seeing Colm’s throat slit, watching his parents being eaten alive. Feeling the flesh peeled from my goddamned body.

His words seemed to enrage her. “If you’ve witnessed it a thousand times, then you’re an expert at it? Is that it?” Her lips were drawn back from her teeth. “You disgust me. You know nothing. Nothing!”

For her to discount what he’d been through? “I know everything!” he roared as he tore off his shirt.

She gasped, blinking rapidly as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t comprehend!” He turned to show her his back. When he faced her again, her expression was horrified. “I know what pain is, Regin! I know what it feels like to be powerless.”

Lightning struck again. She stumbled back a step, then another.

Slipping away from me forever. He reached for her, but she shook her head slowly.

“You stay away from me, Chase. Whatever you want me for, whatever you think might be between us, forget about it. It’s just … dead between us!” She turned back toward the bunker, covering her mouth as if she was going to be sick.

As he watched her hurrying from him, he had a flash memory from long ago. From the day the Order’s physicians had removed his bandages.

His first thought upon seeing what was left of his chest had confused him, had made no sense in the context of his life.

When he’d gazed in horror at his skin, he’d thought …

She will never want me like this.

Regin ran blindly back to the bunker, losing energy, vomiting it free of her body.

Scars covered Chase’s chest, back, and arms. The wounds were curving, ritualistic. He had been tortured. And he was clearly still living with the aftereffects.

Track marks lined his inner arms.

The sight of his scars hadn’t sickened her; the idea of them did. They’d rocked her because she could imagine the pain behind them.

Who’d done that to him? She remembered speaking to him about his hatred of immortals, remembered guessing that some had hurt him and his family. He’d never denied it.

She could piece together a likely scenario. A number of them had killed his loved ones. He’d survived the ordeal, then joined the Order for revenge.

She slowed, some memory tickling at her conscious-ness, but she couldn’t recall it. …

No wonder he hates us.

She flung open the door to the torture warehouse, wincing at the pain in her chest. As soon as she could grab a decent weapon, she was gone from this place. She’d go it alone before she stayed near Chase.

Chase. With his defeated eyes, lost expression, and palpable yearning.

Damn it, I don’t have internal struggles! If she hated someone, she hated them. Period. She’d vowed to mete retribution on him.

So why was she feeling that old pull to him? Why did she want to go and erase that haunted look in his eyes? Shh, warrior, be at ease.

Aidan had been so beautiful and proud, a king in his world. He’d never known a single defeat until the very end of his life.

Chase was… he was wretched. He’d clearly been dealt tragedy early. If each reincarnation emphasized a facet of Aidan, then Declan Chase was the worst of him.

Pain and hate personified.

His body had been maimed. Yet his face… As she’d backed away from him, her lightning had struck, illuminating his visage.

A face made more beautiful by lightning. He’d looked like some kind of tormented, dark angel.

And that tragic beauty and raw longing called to her as no other embodiment had. …

When she entered the exam room, Lothaire gazed at her from his perch, his eerie reddened eyes following her movements.

“What are you looking at?” Soon she’d confront him about his past crimes against the Valkyrie, but not until she’d healed more. Not until I have a shot at bringing home his fangs to my sisters. Then she’d slay him.

“Some of us are trying to sleep, suka.”

“I’ve got your number, you son of a bitch.”

He casually hissed, muttering in that thick Russian accent, “I’ll be getting yours, drop by drop.”

Whatever that meant.

At the back of the room, Thad was asleep sitting up against the wall. Natalya was dozing with her head in Brandr’s lap.

Regin frowned at this, then continued her search for a weapon. She’d left that sword outside.

Brandr eased Natalya’s head to the ground and crossed to Regin’s side. “Is Chase still alive?”

“Unfortunately.”

“It’s definitely Aidan in there. Could scarcely believe it before. But now I’m certain of it.” His brows drew together. “What are you looking for?”

“I need a weapon, but I don’t want to take the last sword.”

“You’re leaving? What about our escape?”

“If I stay, I’ll kill him,” she said. “I vowed to the Lore to get revenge on him.”

“Regin, if you’d seen him earlier, the way he reacted to your being hurt … Your vow’s been more than fulfilled.”

She was unconvinced.

“In a few days, the Order’s going to bomb the island. There’s only one way off—a boat on the far shore over these mountains. If you’re not on that boat, you’re dead.”

“I’ll find it and meet you there. If I don’t show in time, then leave without me.”

“You can’t go alone.”

I might not have to. When Regin had been out in that clearing, just before Chase showed up, she’d sensed … a Valkyrie’s presence.

Was one of her half sisters on this island even now?

“The journey’s going to be dangerous,” Brandr said. “And I hate to say this, but right now, Chase is the strongest of us here.”

“A mad dog is strong, but you don’t trust it with your life!”

“I’ll put him on a leash then, tie his hands. Would you stay then?” When she hesitated, he said, “You won’t make it off this island alive without him. And since I’m sworn to protect you, then I won’t either.”

In a lower tone, she said, “And what about Lothaire?”

“The vampire fought off Wendigos tonight, allowing all of us to escape here. Chase had to make some kind of bargain with him.”

“So he cut a deal with an evil leech—”

“To save you. Look, I’m not asking you to forgive Chase. But maybe just try to understand him.”

“Do you know how many of our friends and allies are on this island? How many died this night? How many lives have been ruined? He’s behind all of that! He believes we’re all animals—including you!”

“I know this! I just want you to be aware that he made sacrifices tonight. That he’s at least trying to make amends.”

“What do you want me to do? Get cozy with him—so he can die anyway?”

“Regin, this is the first time I’ve really been around Aidan since he died. You’ve known him in the past, for however briefly.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck. “But I’ve always been too late. I saw the knight breathe his last. I was with you when we buried the Spaniard’s empty coffin. I was running for the cavalryman, yelling a warning seconds before he was shot. I just … I want to see what this is like. To have him back.”

Brandr misses him, too.

“But he’s not the same,” she said in a softer tone. “You’ll only be disappointed.”

“Then you can leave him behind after we escape. What could it hurt to wait a few days … ?”

Even over the storm, Declan heard someone nearing, but he was too bloody weary to bother covering his scars.

Fuck it. Let everyone see what he really looked like. …

Brandr approached, his eyes narrowing at the sight. Yet he said nothing, just stalked around the clearing, kicking a rock here, throwing a stick there.

Colm used to do that whenever he had something pressing he’d wanted to discuss. “Say what’s on your mind, berserker.”

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

Sitting in the rain like a fool, wanting to howl from losing her. Though he’d never had her to begin with! Just as he’d known, one look at his ruined skin had made her run. Why had he hoped she’d react differently?

When Declan didn’t answer, Brandr said, “Did an immortal do that to your chest?”

“Oh, aye, lots of them,” he snapped.

“Tell me you killed them.” Brandr’s eyes gleamed in the night. He sounded almost … pissed for Declan.

He gave a curt nod.

“This certainly explains why you hate all of us.”

“I hated you because it was my goddamned job to! And because I never bloody knew there was an alternative.”

“And what about those, Chase?” Brandr pointed to his track marks. “What are you into?”

Shame filling him, Declan stared at the puddle deepening around his boots.

“You’re shaking now. How bad will the withdrawal get?”

“I’ve gotten through the worst of it.” Regin saw me through it, and she didn’t even know. … But he wasn’t free from the symptoms yet.

“Are you going to stay clean?”

“That’s the plan.”

Seeming to make a decision about him, Brandr said, “Regin wants to leave.”

Declan shot to his feet. “Not a chance—”

“Unless you are tied up, like a prisoner. I’ve got some exam restraints back at the bunker.”

How bloody fitting. “You and I both know I can hit a rage and break any bindings.”

“And she knows there’s enough time in that short window to take your head.”

“If I do this, then she stays?”

Brandr nodded.

Declan drew on his pullover, then handed Regin’s discarded sword over to Brandr. Wanting his penance, he returned to the bunker, allowing himself to be bound.

Inside, Thad and Regin were sitting up against a wall together, her head on the boy’s shoulder. Don’t thrash him. He’s young.

When Natalya gestured for Brandr to join her, the berserker dropped down on the floor beside her.

Lothaire was still dozing.

Declan sat off to the side away from everyone, feeling—as usual—like an outcast. He used all his willpower not to stare at Regin. And failed.

The dark circles under her eyes and the pallor of her skin were like physical blows to him, redoubling his guilt.

When their gazes met, he didn’t bother hiding what he was feeling. I want you so much. I’d give anything to redo the last month. To rid myself of these scars for you.

Expression brimming with hostility, she turned from him. When Thad put his arm around her shoulders, she curled into his side.

Declan’s fists clenched behind him as he resisted the urge to break his bonds and snatch her away from the halfling.

When his legs grew restless and his shaking intensified once more, he leaned his head back against the wall to stare at the ceiling. This wasn’t nearly as punishing as it’d been earlier, but without her in his arms, it was worse for him.

Need her. He gnashed his teeth, struggling to keep his legs still—

Suddenly Lothaire shot upright, out of breath and patting his chest from neck to waist. His face was drawn and clammy with sweat.

Declan narrowed his eyes. The vampire just dreamed of my torture, experienced it.

When Lothaire’s red gaze fell on him, Declan murmured, “Fuckin’ choke on them. …”