Burning Dawn
Page 83
“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.
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.
