The Darkest Surrender

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

ABSOLUTE, UTTER CHAOS surrounded him.

Winded, stricken to his knees by debilitating pain, Strider gripped the Paring Rod. Harpies, consorts and slaves raced in every direction, trying to get away before the cops arrived. And they would, bringing reporters with them. Countless laws had been broken and a national treasure desecrated. Even now, blood soaked the ground, pooling around Strider’s feet.

What the hell should he do? And why was his demon so agonized, moaning and writhing inside his head? They’d won. Hadn’t they?

The moment Lazarus lost his head, the artifact had appeared. Something shimmery had risen from his body and been sucked into the tip of the Rod as if a vacuum switch had been thrown. The warrior’s soul, probably, the rest joining the piece inside.

No longer able to hold the illusion, the world had returned to normal. Strider hadn’t thought of that little complication, and therefore hadn’t prepared for it. Had only considered at last acquiring the Rod. Now he had it, but few options for successfully hiding it.

Juliette knew her man was dead, knew he wouldn’t have disobeyed her otherwise. That scream… She would be searching for the body. Would learn who was responsible. There’d be no covering up the truth. Not now. Too many people had seen Strider hovering over the lifeless body, a bloody sword in hand. Not that he would have tried to cover up the truth. He’d done the crime, the consequences his to bear.

Now, though, he’d brought evil to Kaia’s door. Juliette would no longer be content to humiliate her. Juliette would want to punish her. Hurt her. Destroy her.

The truth struck him and he wanted to vomit. What the hell had he done?

Strider lumbered to his feet, his head swimming. He swayed, comprehension a bitch slap of truth. He had challenged Kaia to win the game; she must have lost. Shit. Shit! Was she okay?

Someone slammed into him and he stumbled, his pain intensifying. His grip tightened on the Rod. He had to keep it safe; he also had to reach Kaia. Sabin and Lysander were probably looking for their women, so they would be no help.

With his free hand, Strider jerked his cell phone out of his pocket. He needed Lucien.

His vision was too blurry to see the numbers. He tried to call the keeper of Death, anyway. The warrior was on speed dial, so all Strider had to do was press three numbers—just three—then utter one word—help—and his friend would appear.

Someone else bumped into him and he stumbled more forcefully. The phone fell from his hand, clattering to the pavement. Shit! He bent down, his bones and joints protesting as he patted the area around him. Finally his fingers closed around the plastic.

Multiple pairs of booted feet stomped all over his hand, crushing the bone—and the cell. Those same feet dug into his back, breaking his ribs and stabbing the jagged shards into his lungs, deflating them. Next, his face was shoved into the dirt.

Stampeded, he thought, dazed. How humiliating. He jerked the Rod underneath his body, hoping to shelter it. He doubted anything could break it, despite its fragile appearance. There was an hourglass on each end, the staff itself thin and wooden, but the thing had been made by the gods. And he was living proof that the gods didn’t make inferior products. But the Rod could be stolen and that he wouldn’t allow.

He almost couldn’t believe that he was holding the fourth artifact. After all this time, the final piece of the puzzle had fallen straight into his lap. At a terrible price, yes, but he had it.

Eventually the footsteps let up and Strider forced his battered body to stand. He wheezed, swayed. A few more Harpies ran into him as they raced past, but they failed to knock him down. Maybe because they weren’t trying. They were just in a hurry.

Another feminine scream rent the air, closer this time. The agony in that scream…agony and rage, blending together in a vicious harmony.

“I. Will. Kill. You.” Juliette’s words reverberated, each one a lash of hatred.

Even though he couldn’t see shit, he turned and let the momentum of the thinning crowd lead him away. A few times, his knees threatened to buckle, but he used the Rod as a walking stick and kept going.

How close was Juliette on his heels?

Kaia! he mentally shouted. They’d never spoken telepathically, but he’d never been this desperate to reach her before. He could only hope their marriage had enhanced their connection. Where are you?

“I’m here.” A familiar fragrance filled his nose a split second before a warm arm snaked around his waist, jerking him to the left. “Is that what I think it is?”

Thank the gods. She was alive, she was here, and they could speak telepathically. An advantage he would explore when they were safe. Right now, he could feel her heart beating against his side, fast, but hell, it was beating, it was beating and that was enough. “Yes. I’m sorry, baby doll. I had to take it. Couldn’t let the opportunity pass. And don’t touch it, okay?” He didn’t know how the Rod worked, how to pass the souls and abilities trapped inside to another person, or how to steal souls and abilities from the living, and he didn’t want to risk doing irreparable harm to Kaia. “Are you okay?”

“You can’t see for yourself?”

“Nope. Corneas busted.”

“That explains why you were about to smash into the wall,” she said dryly. “Listen. Even though I want to bash your head in—seriously, you think I’ll take the Rod from you?—I’m sorry I lost. I’m sorry you’re in pain. I could have won, could have killed everyone, but my sisters would have died, too, and I couldn’t—”

“You don’t have to explain. I’m just glad you’re here. And no, I don’t think you’ll take the Rod from me. But it’s dangerous and I don’t know how to work it properly.” Should have explained that.

She tugged him to the right. “All right, then. I forgive you for snapping at me, but back to the subject at hand. You hate losing. Honestly, I think you would kill your own mother to win a battle. If you had one. And you put your faith in my ability, but I—”

“Kaia,” he said, cutting her off again. “You are too stubborn for your own good. Nothing matters but the fact that you’re alive, I swear. And to be honest, you aren’t even the one who needs to apologize. You told me not to take the Rod, to let you win it, but I took it anyway.”

“I had changed my mind about that.”

A tug to the left. “I know. That doesn’t change the fact that I—”

“You knew? How? Never mind. We’ll discuss it later. Now who’s the stubborn one?”

Despite his pain, he found himself grinning.

“Damn,” she suddenly cursed. “Juliette’s still on our tail and I can’t seem to lose her.”

His amusement vanished.

Kaia ushered him down a flight of stairs, around a corner. “She’s closing in, and if I don’t do something, she’s gonna reach us.” Without a pause for breath, she pushed him against a hard, cool wall. “Stay here.”

There was no time to question her. She released him and a second later, a sizzling blast of heat wafted over him. She’d just set herself on fire, he realized.

Female shrieks erupted.

“You will pay—” Juliette began, only to be cut off by a grunt of agony.

He wished he could see what was happening.

Sweat rolled down his body. His pain hadn’t lessened and without Kaia there to distract him, to move him, he experienced each lance full force. He hunched over, vomited. He should be fighting alongside Kaia, yet here she was, doing everything on her own. He was a hindrance. If not for him, she could have escaped already, with no problem.

“That should hold the bitch up for a while,” she said with satisfaction, once again winding an arm around his waist and jerking him forward. Though she wasn’t currently on fire, her body temperature had risen substantially.

“You’re getting good at that,” he said, gritting his teeth to help withstand the burn of her.

“Maybe because she keeps me in a constant state of white-hot fury.”

The scent of burning cotton filled his nose. His shirt, he realized. And then another thought hit him. She’d caught fire. Completely. Her clothing would have already burned away.

“You’re naked, aren’t you?” He hated the idea of anyone but him seeing her like that, but he was amused by the picture the two of them must make.

“Yeah.” No shame accompanied the affirmation. “I have been for a while. So how’d you get the Rod?”

A wave of guilt slammed through him as he explained about Lazarus, Juliette and the kind of power at stake. All the while, Kaia piloted him around corners, down steps, up steps.

“So Lazarus is dead?”

A cool, welcome breeze slapped at him. “Yeah. He wasn’t such a bad guy. I wish there’d been another way.” And maybe there was. Lazarus had said As I’ve been led to understand—which meant he could have been wrong. He could possibly survive what Strider had done to him. His soul, anyway. He could be trapped in the Rod right now.

“Yeah, he was growing on me, too. Perhaps—crap. Let’s talk about this later.” She released him. “Gotta get my things and dress. Hold on.”

So they were in the tent they’d occupied earlier, he thought as he swayed. His ears perked as he listened for her sisters, but only the sound of her movements greeted him. Then she was gripping him and ushering him through the maze. He could picture their surroundings now, and knew a fence loomed in front of them.

“Climb,” she said, confirming the layout in his head.

His already damaged body protested the entire way over, but he made it. Continued forward.

“Now jump.”

Another fence, though this one was barely more than a hurdle. He landed with a grunt of pain.

“Boulder,” she said, jerking him to the side.

Soon as they rounded it, they ran. Just ran. Through labored breaths, he inhaled the fragrance of pine, dirt and car exhaust. His boots pounded into rocks and grass, then pavement. A few times, he heard the surprised—and perhaps horrified—murmurs of humans.

Kaia slowed, stopped, then pulled away from him again. “Stay here.” Several minutes ticked by. He hated standing there, helpless, the Rod out in the open. “Cash,” she muttered when she returned to his side.

“Smart girl.”

A haze of gold broke past the darkness of his sight and he blinked. Another blink. No change. Just that dim little light, but that was enough. He was already healing.

What seemed an eternity later, Kaia rented a motel room and secured them inside. She helped him to the bed and he collapsed atop the mattress, taking the Rod with him.

“FYI, you look like shit, Bonin’.” She eased beside him and smoothed the hair from his brow with a gentle touch.

He leaned into the caress. “Thanks, Red. Must say, I’ve felt better, too.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Nah. All’s I need is time.”

“So what does that thing do? You mentioned the soul thing, yeah, but I’m confused.”

“You got a cell phone?” he asked, rather than answer. First things first. He had to get the artifact out of Rome and away from Juliette.

“Yep. Grabbed it when I got dressed.”

“Call Lucien and ask him to come here.”

As she obeyed, the light he saw expanded, his vision clearing a little more. He began to notice little details. Overhead, the ceiling was a mix of white and yellow. The walls were white stucco. There was a window draped by thick red material. Beside him was a scarred nightstand, a blue lamp resting on top. His gaze moved to Kaia, who paced as she spoke into the phone. That ended and she went silent. She jabbed at the keypad, agitated.

Another couple minutes passed before he could see her clearly. Bruises colored her left eye and jaw, and her upper lip was cut and swollen. Her hair lay in tangles around her shoulders. She wore a clean T-shirt and jeans, but no shoes. She’d run through the streets with bare feet, and it showed. Her toes were blackened from dirt and each step she took left a smudge of blood on the tiled floor.

Not once had she complained or even uttered a squeak of pain. She was a warrior to her core, and his heart swelled with love and pride for her. She hadn’t cared that he’d taken the Rod. No, she’d praised him. Even though he’d caused her nothing but trouble.

One of a kind, his Kaia.

She deserved the best. Therefore, he was going to be a better man. For her.

Frowning, she shoved her cell phone in her back pocket. “Lucien will be here in a few, he said. Also, I texted my sisters and told them where we are. Taliyah and Neeka are nearby and they’ll be here in a few minutes, too. I haven’t heard back from anyone else.”

Before the last word left her mouth, there was a knock at the door. Taliyah didn’t wait for Kaia to answer; she just strode inside, Neeka right behind her. The sisters embraced.

“Sorry about the loss,” Taliyah said, patting her on the head.

Kaia shrugged. “Like I haven’t caused my fair share of them lately.”

“So you’re a Phoenix, huh,” Neeka said.

“I know.” Crimson-streaked fingers scrubbed at her face, highlighting her fatigue. “I was surprised, too.”

Taliyah shook her head, a study of femininity as her pale hair danced around her shoulders. “Oh, Neeka and I weren’t surprised.”

Kaia’s brows knitted together. “Why not?”

“You’ve been exhibiting signs for several weeks now. Plus, you burst into flames the day you were born. Mother wanted to protect you from your father, so she gave you something to ensure you wouldn’t do so again for centuries and would even react to the Phoenix toxin if you were scratched or bitten.” Another pat, then Taliyah padded to Neeka’s side. “I knew it was only a matter of time before your ability resurfaced.”

Strider could actually hear Kaia’s thoughts; they were so forceful, they rode the threads of the connection between them, jolting him. What a freaking shocker. Mother actually acted motherly and helped me out. I want to hug the woman, then shake her. Can’t soften, though. This is war. “Well, you should have told me!” she fumed aloud.

“Seriously,” Strider said. He would have sat up, glared, something, but damn, the pain inside him continued to intensify, his demon moaning and groaning.

Taliyah paid him no heed. “And cause you pointless worry? Hardly. Now that it’s happened, you still have nothing to worry about. Okay? Your father will not try and take you, I promise.”

“You really think?” Vulnerability wove through each of the syllables.

He wanted to call her over, hold her tight. If her dad—his father-in-law, he realized with a start—proved to be a problem, her dad would feel the wrath of a demon-possessed warrior.

“I really know,” Taliyah assured her. “He’s dead. I killed him myself. And I know, I know. His people would have wanted you the moment they heard you could withstand their fire, since there aren’t many females who can.”

“Would have wanted?” Kaia and Strider asked in unison. He noticed she gave no indication that her father’s death bothered her. No sorrow wafted through their connection, her mind calm.

A stiff nod, as if their surprise offended her. “I’m sure Strider told you about Neeka and I sneaking off and meeting a group of men. Anyway, Neeka owes me a big-time favor and agreed to wed a Phoenix warrior in your place.”

That must be some favor, if wedding a stranger was appropriate payback. And what the hell had she meant? “In her place?” Strider hadn’t intended to yell, but damn. “They think she’ll marry someone besides me? They can damn well think again! She’s mine.”

“I don’t understand,” Kaia said softly. “And he’s right. I’m his.”

Hearing her confession heated him up as surely as her internal fire always did, but at the same time it soothed him, as she’d probably intended.

Taliyah said, “They would have come after you, and they would have killed him. I knew that would upset you, so I made other arrangements.”

Just like that? “Now they’ll just try to take both of them.”

“No,” Taliyah assured him. “I won’t give you specifics about the deal—that’s up to Neeka—but they won’t come for Kaia.”

“Neeka,” he said, his gaze landing on the gorgeous black girl.

She was watching the sisters, expression a little sad, so she didn’t realize he’d spoken to her. Kaia looked at her, too, and the Harpy nodded.

“Why?” Kaia asked her.

“I saved her life,” Taliyah answered for the Eagleshield. “Like I said, she owed me.”

“Can she withstand their fire?” Strider asked. If not, the warriors would come after Kaia, anyway.

“Not yet,” Neeka replied.

His gaze returned to her and he saw that she was watching him now. “Then what you’re doing is—”

“I will. One day, I will. But right now, I have something else they prize just as much.”

“And now we really do have to go,” Taliyah said, tugging her friend back to the door before Neeka could expand on that statement. Not that she would have. She’d zipped her lips pretty damn tight. “We’re tracking Tabitha, making sure her people get her to safety. You messed her up pretty damn good. I was so impressed, baby girl.”

“Thank you.” A tendril of guilt drifted from her.

Taliyah gave the most fleeting of smiles. “Soon as I know she’s taken care of, I’ll come back.”

The door shut and the pair was gone.

Strider watched as remorse washed over Kaia’s pale features.

“For your mother?” Strider asked.

“Yeah,” she answered, knowing what he meant. “I wish our relationship hadn’t reached such a terrible point, but—”

Lucien chose that moment to materialize and Kaia pressed her lips together. The big warrior took in the scene in an instant and cursed. “What the hell happened to you two?”

Strider focused on his friend. Black hair, mismatched eyes—one blue, one brown—and a face as scarred as the nightstand. “What happened doesn’t matter. Only the end result. This,” he said, holding out the Paring Rod with a grimace, “is the fourth artifact.”

Lucien’s eyes widened as he assumed ownership. “You’re kidding me, right?” His gaze raked over the item in question.

“Nope. There’s a very angry Harpy out there who wants it back and she will do anything to get it.”

The keeper of Death popped his jaw, every inch the dedicated soldier. “How’d she get it in the first place?”

“That’s a story for another day.” Strider’s voice…so weak, so distant. Again he tried to sit up, anything to keep himself focused and there. The gut-wrenching pain and exertion of the day began to drain what little strength he had left. He lay there, fighting for breath, and pressed on. “At least we finally know what this artifact can do. Somehow, it can trap souls and supernatural abilities inside its tip. That tip can also impart those souls and abilities to others.”

Tense, heavy silence as Lucien absorbed the news.

Then a beep echoed around them.

“A text.” Kaia whipped out her phone, stared down at the screen and sighed in relief. “Gwen and Sabin are safe. I told them where we are and they’re on their way.”

Strider experienced a wave of his own relief and hurried on, wanting to get the rest of the deets out before he slipped into unconsciousness. “I don’t know how to use the damn thing. I only know that whoever is holding it can’t ever take what’s inside. They can only give the powers to others.”

Beep.

A pause. “Lysander can’t find Bianka,” Kaia said now, traces of panic in her voice. “He’s worried, and asks if anyone has seen her.”

“I’m sure she’s—” Lucien began.

Another beep.

Another pause. “Oh, my gods.” Kaia choked on a cry of rage. “No, no, no. No!”

At last Strider found the strength to sit up, concern rocking him. Her upset fueled his own. “What is it, baby doll?”

The rage glassed her eyes as she showed him the screen. Her hand shook as he read, Want sis 2 live? Let’s trade.

His throat constricted when he saw the symbol for an attachment. “What’s the attachment?”

“Attachment? I didn’t notice one.” Her trembling increased as she studied the phone. She pressed a few buttons and choked on another cry. “A video. I see Bianka. She’s tied up. Bleeding.”

After a few seconds’ static, he heard Bianka shout, “Tell her to go fuck herself, Kye!” Then Juliette was speaking over her. “You bring me the Paring Rod in one hour, or I swear to the gods I will remove your twin’s head the same way your bastard of a consort removed Lazarus’s. And if you dare—dare!—think to do your fire thing…”

A screech of rage. “You know what? Bring your consort, too. Either your sister dies or he does. You pick. For every minute you’re late, your precious sister will suffer.” A pause. “Oh, and Kaia. I hope you’re late. Good luck finding us.”