A breeze blew behind him, and he knew something was trying to sneak up on him.
He flared his wings, knocking several shadows away from him, and hurtled into the air, flipping over the creatures that had thought to take him from behind. More shadows converged. He struck, taking what constituted heads. Rather than fall, however, they vanished.
Thane knew it would be better to remain in perpetual motion, never allowing anyone to get a lock on him. He darted to the side of a building, then to the other side, then to the ground, then to the roof, sword constantly swinging. They followed him. Three times he almost fell. Once he hit his knees, but he managed to bounce back up.
Suddenly Bjorn flew into view, followed by Xerxes. Both men landed at his sides, flanking him. He was so overcome with relief he willingly dropped to his knees.
“You don’t call, you don’t write,” Bjorn said, leaping into motion, his sword of fire already drawn and swinging.
“Tried,” he gritted. “Couldn’t get through.”
“After what we had to give up to get here, after what we had to do to find you, you owe us,” Xerxes said, swiping at the shadows with short swords.
“I’ll gladly pay the toll.”
“The minions of strife,” Bjorn said. “Always picking fights. Let’s give them a spanking.”
They split up, dividing the attention of the creatures, leaping, diving, flying this way and that, flipping, kicking, punching, but only the sword of fire caused any damage. One of the creatures finally managed to wrap itself around his head like a dark blanket, suffocating him.
Screams, screams, so many screams. They scraped at his ears, assaulted his mind. He thought he heard his friends shouting in the background, but...but...the screams, so loud, so loud, and they were his own, he realized, coming from him, from his past, from his present, blending together, bleeding so much, soaking him.
All too soon, scenes from his past sprang up and joined the party. The women he’d bedded and left. The humans he’d killed simply to get to demons. The warriors he’d betrayed after his return from the demon dungeon. The times he’d laughed when he’d wanted to cry.
Then suddenly, a blaze of light erupted and the darkness left.
Thane fell forward, landing on his face. He blinked rapidly, the haze around him slowly thinning, even as blood dripped into his eyes. He saw Xerxes and Bjorn, still fighting the shadow creatures, going low, straightening, taking out ankles and knees to hobble. The two warriors stayed close, shielding Thane as best they could.
Must have landed on the Phoenix, he thought. That had to be her still-warm skin cushioning him—no, not warm, but hot. Too hot. Somehow, in death, she was heating up, about to catch fire, all on her own.
Just as she’d promised.
One of the shadows slunk over, staying low, darting out of the way anytime Bjorn or Xerxes struck, and managed to latch on to Kendra’s bare leg. The creature laughed manically—just before Xerxes beheaded it.
The shadow vanished, and Thane saw that a flame had finally sparked at the end of Kendra’s toe. That flame intensified, spread. Soon, her entire foot was engulfed. Her ankle. Her calf.
The enemy thinned and the remaining few realized they couldn’t win and backed up. They attached themselves to building walls and slithered up, up and over the roof.
Cowards!
Thane scrambled away from Kendra’s body. Her thighs were the next to catch flame, then her torso, her arms, her chest. Her face. Her hair. Every inch of her was doused, crackling—and then she was gone, ash floating through the air.
She would re-form. She’d promised that, too. She would be stronger.
He would be her slave.
Every ounce of his being rejected the notion.
Xerxes stomped to Thane’s side. “You all right, my man?”
His voice sounded far away. Thane tried to open his mouth to speak but he didn’t have the strength.
Bjorn took a step toward him, stopped and frowned. He looked down at his wrist, where there was a black scratch, then back to Thane. Confusion gleamed in his rainbow eyes. His frown deepened. His knees collapsed.
Xerxes popped up to race to him, but—
Bjorn vanished.
Vanished as if he’d flashed—an ability he didn’t possess. Or, as if someone or something had flashed him.
“What just happened?” Xerxes shouted. “Bjorn. Bjorn!”
Thane struggled to sit up. His friends. He had to help his friends. They were the world to him. Meant everything. He was nothing without them. But the dizziness returned, flooding his head, and weakness spilled into his limbs, and he could only lie there, panting—until he blacked out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
NICOLA SAT BESIDE her sister’s hospital bed. So much had changed since the last time they’d done this terrible dance, and yet, Laila still hurtled toward death.
If we’re ever again in that situation, and I have a feeling we will be, I want you to let me go.
No, Nicola had said then.
Never, she said now.
Before, she had been without hope. Now, she was different. Stronger. Smarter. She knew there was a better way. But her sister didn’t, and changing her mind was what mattered right now.
Her precious Laila, she thought, tears beading in her eyes. There were tubes in her sister’s chest and arms. Her skin had already yellowed. She had slipped into a coma the doctors said she would never wake from. She was drugged but not without pain, her features pinched and her muscles tensed.
Every time Nicola repeated what she’d learned from Koldo, Laila’s vitals strengthened—but the moment she stopped talking, those vitals plummeted. Sleep had become Nicola’s enemy.
Zacharel had done what he could to keep Laila alive, but in the end, he’d needed help. So, he’d flown Laila to the hospital. He’d stationed two Sent Ones at Nicola’s sides, and they were now standing in the hallway, giving her some time with her sister. To say goodbye.
Where are you, Koldo?
He’d been missing for two days. Zacharel was out looking for him.
Zacharel, who had told her that Koldo had gone to procure more Water, just because Nicola had asked, and that he should have returned by the end of the first day. That wasn’t all he’d told her, of course. Even remembering the rest, Nicola shuddered.
Your man was whipped. Before that, he was commanded to give up something precious to him. His mind has to be a mess. I have asked our leader for the details, but they are not his to share.
So badly she had wanted to go back to those few minutes inside Zacharel’s cloud and stop Koldo from leaving. But that’s why he’d flashed without telling her where he was going. So that she couldn’t. He was doing this for her. Suffering for her.
I have to find him. Yet, she couldn’t leave her sister to...to... She just couldn’t leave her sister alone.
And what if Koldo had been asked to give up Nicola?
Her stomach twisted into a thousand little knots, and she had to swallow back a moan of grief.
“This is it for me, Co Co.”
Laila’s voice pierced the silence of the room, and Nicola jolted with shock. Clear gray eyes watched her, no hint of pain evident.
Inside her, hope and confusion collided with the shock, creating a heady mixture that left her dizzy. “You’re awake.”
“Just for a moment.” Chapped lips curved in a soft smile. “You have to let me go, my love. It’s time.”