Burning Dawn
Page 57
Not here, either.
Where was she? At this late hour, demon activity was always heavy. But here, it was heavier than usual. At least thirty viha, ten envexa, fifteen pic, and forty slecht slithered over the walls, searching for potential prey. Whispers meant to elicit whatever emotion the creatures fed upon soon rose. Any humans who responded drew the notice of other demons.
Any other time, Thane would have shot into battle. Now, he just wanted to find Elin. He’d misjudged her terribly. She might be part Phoenix, but she wasn’t evil. In fact, she had reason to hate the Phoenix more than he did.
She’d told him about the murder of her father and husband, but not the abuse her mother had suffered. Chained in a tent, given to multiple warriors every day, until she became pregnant. Then Elin was forced to witness her death—and the death of her babe—while she was tied up, unable to reach her, unable to help, forbidden from speaking.
Afterward, Elin was denied the right to mourn.
She had been utterly friendless. Trapped. Scorned, mocked. Beaten far worse than he’d suspected. Treated like an animal. And yet, knowing she could be treated far worse if she were caught, she’d helped Thane escape the camp. And then, when she finally had begun to feel safe, he—her protector—dumped her on the floor and threatened her.
He was so ashamed.
I’ve tried to initiate contact, Xerxes said, but I can’t get through her mental shield.
Impossible. She couldn’t have learned to block so quickly. Not as open as Xerxes claimed she was, and not against a centuries-old warrior. So, a block must have formed on its own. And there were only two ways that could have happened. Through fear...or through pain.
Bust through the shield, he commanded.
I would cause her untold anguish. Perhaps even permanent damage.
There’s a chance she’s already suffering. And he couldn’t make it stop if he couldn’t find her.
True, but I told her I would never use force.
And a Sent One would not go back on his word.
Thane had to do this on his own, then. As he darted through the town, staying low enough to see every face he passed but high enough to cover more than a block at a time, he tried to calm his raging emotions. He noticed hordes of demons headed in the same direction. Racing, really. Laughing, excited.
Clearly, they were on the hunt.
Dread filled him. Demons could scent Sent Ones, a single whiff causing the demons to scurry away in fear. But there was an exception. When the demons realized the scent was mixed with a human’s. After what had happened in the elevator, Thane’s scent was most definitely all over Elin.
He followed the trail to a little park at the edge of town—
And that was when he saw her.
His heart withered, forever useless. The demons had cornered her atop a child’s wooden fort. A pile of rocks rested at her feet, and she tossed what she could. The strength of her fear gave the demons the strength they needed to materialize. From spirit, unable to touch her, to tangible...able to destroy her.
Claws had already shredded her jeans and left her calves bleeding. Fangs had already punctured her neck and arms. Her eyes were glazed, and she was wavering, about ready to tumble over.
A war cry burst from Thane. He shot toward the ground. The demons were too frenzied to notice him. He summoned a sword of fire the moment he landed and began hacking through the masses. Flesh sizzled. Heads rolled.
A heavy weight on his back. Fire-tipped claws digging into his neck.
Thane slammed his sword overhead, then tilted it back, the flames pressing against the spine of whichever demon had thought it would be a good idea to jump on him. The weight fell away, and Thane swung the sword forward, from left to right, right to left, his motions never ceasing.
Demon after demon died.
He spread his wings and rose to the same height as the fort, maneuvering his big body in front of Elin. “Put your arms around my neck,” he commanded, killing the four demons that dared edge too close.
He expected resistance. But she must have been more afraid of the demons than she was of him, because she obeyed without hesitation. He shot into the air. Higher. Higher still. He wanted her safe and well more than he wanted to kill the enemy.
“Can’t...hold...”
Her hands fell away from him, and she plummeted, screaming. Thane switched directions, his heart leaping into his throat. He caught her just before she hit the ground and jerked her against his chest, leveling out, then angling up, once again moving away from the grasping demons. Tremors racked her small body.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “This is my fault.”
“Yes. A-all y-your fault,” she agreed with chattering teeth.
“I’ll make it up—”
“Sh-shut up,” she whispered. “Just...shut up. Don’t want to...talk right now.”
Very well. When he reached the club, he carried her straight to his private suite. But the moment he realized he was headed toward the room where he’d once kept Kendra, the room where he’d had sex with the Harpy, he paused.
He didn’t want Elin in the same bed Kendra and the Harpy had used. He didn’t want Elin in the same bed he’d taken countless females. Hurt countless females. Didn’t want her to look at the shackles and think about what he might have done to her. Especially now, while she was cut and bleeding. So, he had three options. Take her to her own room and leave her with the barmaids, put her on his couch, or put her in his bed, where no other female had ever been.
He put her in his bed. And he liked that she was there, he realized.
He looked her over. She was in worse condition than he’d suspected. The cuts were deep. Bone deep. Black already oozed from them, indicating a poison had been injected. If left untreated, she would die the worst of deaths.
My fault. All my fault.
Working swiftly, he removed from the air pocket his last vial of Water of Life, and forced a mouthful of the clear liquid down her throat. She coughed and sputtered, and then her entire body bowed, a high-pitched scream ripping from her.
His chest constricted with another bout of self-hatred and guilt. “The pain will pass, kulta, I promise you,” he said, brushing his fingertips across her fevered brow. “The Water is fighting the toxin inside you, helping you heal. Sometimes it hurts more than receiving the injuries. Just a few seconds more and... There, see? The pain is already fading.”
She sagged against the mattress, her skin glistening with perspiration. Watching him warily, she reached up with a trembling hand and pushed a damp lock of hair from her brow.
Where was she? At this late hour, demon activity was always heavy. But here, it was heavier than usual. At least thirty viha, ten envexa, fifteen pic, and forty slecht slithered over the walls, searching for potential prey. Whispers meant to elicit whatever emotion the creatures fed upon soon rose. Any humans who responded drew the notice of other demons.
Any other time, Thane would have shot into battle. Now, he just wanted to find Elin. He’d misjudged her terribly. She might be part Phoenix, but she wasn’t evil. In fact, she had reason to hate the Phoenix more than he did.
She’d told him about the murder of her father and husband, but not the abuse her mother had suffered. Chained in a tent, given to multiple warriors every day, until she became pregnant. Then Elin was forced to witness her death—and the death of her babe—while she was tied up, unable to reach her, unable to help, forbidden from speaking.
Afterward, Elin was denied the right to mourn.
She had been utterly friendless. Trapped. Scorned, mocked. Beaten far worse than he’d suspected. Treated like an animal. And yet, knowing she could be treated far worse if she were caught, she’d helped Thane escape the camp. And then, when she finally had begun to feel safe, he—her protector—dumped her on the floor and threatened her.
He was so ashamed.
I’ve tried to initiate contact, Xerxes said, but I can’t get through her mental shield.
Impossible. She couldn’t have learned to block so quickly. Not as open as Xerxes claimed she was, and not against a centuries-old warrior. So, a block must have formed on its own. And there were only two ways that could have happened. Through fear...or through pain.
Bust through the shield, he commanded.
I would cause her untold anguish. Perhaps even permanent damage.
There’s a chance she’s already suffering. And he couldn’t make it stop if he couldn’t find her.
True, but I told her I would never use force.
And a Sent One would not go back on his word.
Thane had to do this on his own, then. As he darted through the town, staying low enough to see every face he passed but high enough to cover more than a block at a time, he tried to calm his raging emotions. He noticed hordes of demons headed in the same direction. Racing, really. Laughing, excited.
Clearly, they were on the hunt.
Dread filled him. Demons could scent Sent Ones, a single whiff causing the demons to scurry away in fear. But there was an exception. When the demons realized the scent was mixed with a human’s. After what had happened in the elevator, Thane’s scent was most definitely all over Elin.
He followed the trail to a little park at the edge of town—
And that was when he saw her.
His heart withered, forever useless. The demons had cornered her atop a child’s wooden fort. A pile of rocks rested at her feet, and she tossed what she could. The strength of her fear gave the demons the strength they needed to materialize. From spirit, unable to touch her, to tangible...able to destroy her.
Claws had already shredded her jeans and left her calves bleeding. Fangs had already punctured her neck and arms. Her eyes were glazed, and she was wavering, about ready to tumble over.
A war cry burst from Thane. He shot toward the ground. The demons were too frenzied to notice him. He summoned a sword of fire the moment he landed and began hacking through the masses. Flesh sizzled. Heads rolled.
A heavy weight on his back. Fire-tipped claws digging into his neck.
Thane slammed his sword overhead, then tilted it back, the flames pressing against the spine of whichever demon had thought it would be a good idea to jump on him. The weight fell away, and Thane swung the sword forward, from left to right, right to left, his motions never ceasing.
Demon after demon died.
He spread his wings and rose to the same height as the fort, maneuvering his big body in front of Elin. “Put your arms around my neck,” he commanded, killing the four demons that dared edge too close.
He expected resistance. But she must have been more afraid of the demons than she was of him, because she obeyed without hesitation. He shot into the air. Higher. Higher still. He wanted her safe and well more than he wanted to kill the enemy.
“Can’t...hold...”
Her hands fell away from him, and she plummeted, screaming. Thane switched directions, his heart leaping into his throat. He caught her just before she hit the ground and jerked her against his chest, leveling out, then angling up, once again moving away from the grasping demons. Tremors racked her small body.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “This is my fault.”
“Yes. A-all y-your fault,” she agreed with chattering teeth.
“I’ll make it up—”
“Sh-shut up,” she whispered. “Just...shut up. Don’t want to...talk right now.”
Very well. When he reached the club, he carried her straight to his private suite. But the moment he realized he was headed toward the room where he’d once kept Kendra, the room where he’d had sex with the Harpy, he paused.
He didn’t want Elin in the same bed Kendra and the Harpy had used. He didn’t want Elin in the same bed he’d taken countless females. Hurt countless females. Didn’t want her to look at the shackles and think about what he might have done to her. Especially now, while she was cut and bleeding. So, he had three options. Take her to her own room and leave her with the barmaids, put her on his couch, or put her in his bed, where no other female had ever been.
He put her in his bed. And he liked that she was there, he realized.
He looked her over. She was in worse condition than he’d suspected. The cuts were deep. Bone deep. Black already oozed from them, indicating a poison had been injected. If left untreated, she would die the worst of deaths.
My fault. All my fault.
Working swiftly, he removed from the air pocket his last vial of Water of Life, and forced a mouthful of the clear liquid down her throat. She coughed and sputtered, and then her entire body bowed, a high-pitched scream ripping from her.
His chest constricted with another bout of self-hatred and guilt. “The pain will pass, kulta, I promise you,” he said, brushing his fingertips across her fevered brow. “The Water is fighting the toxin inside you, helping you heal. Sometimes it hurts more than receiving the injuries. Just a few seconds more and... There, see? The pain is already fading.”
She sagged against the mattress, her skin glistening with perspiration. Watching him warily, she reached up with a trembling hand and pushed a damp lock of hair from her brow.
