Burning Dawn

by Gena Showalter

  "I played a part in this," Xerxes said. "I will take the lash, as well."

  "As will I," Bjorn said.

  "No."

  "Yes," they said in unison.

  Guilt rose. They weren't like him. They found no solace in pain, and had suffered too much already, when Thane had been unable to help them. Now, he couldn't let them take his deserved punishment--especially since they were utterly undeserving.

  Don't do this, he pleaded. Go.

  It's already done, Xerxes said with a determined shake of his wings.

  Together until the end, Bjorn said, his rainbow eyes fierce.

  In unison, his friends removed the top half of their robes, gave Zacharel their backs, and sank to their knees. Ready.

  Thane closed his eyes. He should let the Phoenix go. He--

  Couldn't.

  Very well.

  Hating himself, Thane followed suit. He spread his wings and wound them forward, around his arms and out of the way. He was lashed first, the leather biting into his wings, and then, when they were shredded, into his skin.

  Any pleasure he felt was negated during Xerxes's turn, then Bjorn's. Neither displayed any type of reaction, but Thane couldn't help but cringe with every blow.

  "Now. Business," Zacharel said after they had dressed. As if nothing had happened. He motioned to the cars driving along winding roads. Nothing more than ants on a hill beneath them. "A few days ago, William the Ever Randy's daughter, White, was killed by the same Phoenix responsible for slaying King Ardeo's beloved concubine."

  Thane focused. William. An immortal of questionable origins. A male without allegiance or conscience. A man with unequaled power. Thane had always admired him. He lived his life the way Thane wished to live his. Without regrets.

  "The killer's name was Petra," Zacharel continued. "I say was, because William and his three sons ensured she would not regenerate."

  "How?"

  "I'm not yet certain."

  Still, an interesting bit of knowledge Thane stored away. When he finished with Kendra, he wanted to ensure she was unable to regenerate, as well.

  "William's daughter, White..." Zacharel sighed.

  She was the embodiment of subjection, and upon her death her spirit broke into millions of pieces, each like a bug, spreading throughout New York, infecting the humans unfortunate enough to be in the way. Their leader pushed the words inside their heads, perhaps not wanting the information floating away on the breeze to panic those who didn't yet know. Demons used that subjection to their advantage and more easily possessed human bodies. Crime is now at an all-time high, and I have since learned from the Most High that one of the demons responsible for killing Germanus is using the violence as a cover, attempting to shield his whereabouts.

  What do you want us to do? Bjorn asked.

  All members of an army could communicate this way. Meaning, all members of an army were bonded through mental highways. Thane had never liked it, had only ever wanted such a connection with Bjorn and Xerxes. Because if voice could travel those roadways, so could thoughts. Memories. No one had a right to his secrets.

  Go to New York and hunt the demon, Zacharel said.

  And we're, what? Xerxes replied. Supposed to bust into random homes and businesses, and hope we get lucky?

  Thane scrubbed a hand down his face. Did the Most High offer any specifics?

  A shake of Zacharel's dark head. "I can tell you that evil always leaves a trail. Find the start of it, follow it, and then you will find the end of it."

  He made it sound easy. Thane knew it wouldn't be. It never was. But he and his boys would persevere. They always did.

  "Koldo, Axel, Malcolm, Magnus and Jamilla are already there, waiting for you."

  Thane arched a brow. "Waiting?" The most impatient warriors of all time? "Rather than hunting?"

  "I realized I made a mistake, sending my people to different locations. It thinned our efforts. So, from this moment forward, we will work together. We will concentrate on catching only one of the six demons responsible for killing Germanus. Once that's done, we will turn our efforts to a second, and so on."

  The snowball effect. One victory would prime everyone for the next.

  Wise.

  Frowning, Zacharel tilted his head to the side. "Go. Go now. The others have been ambushed, and a battle is in progress."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  METAL WHISTLED THROUGH the night-damp air. Determined footsteps from one, two...five different individuals echoed. Warrior footsteps, not the clacking of demon hooves. A hiss of pain sounded, followed by a grunt of satisfaction.

  Thane dive-bombed the dark alley, straightening at the last moment to land on his feet in the middle of the violent battle. As he palmed a sword of fire, he snapped his wings into his sides, making room for Bjorn and Xerxes.

  A quick glance revealed writhing shadows that cringed from the swords of fire the Sent Ones brandished. But the moment the Sent Ones became preoccupied with another opponent, those shadows struck, swiping out blackened claws.

  Koldo fought with the cold calculation of a robot.

  Axel fought as if he had no concern for his own life, leaving himself wide-open to counterattack, just to make a single kill.

  Twins Magnus and Malcolm stood back-to-back. After Magnus injured the prey, Malcolm finished it off.

  Jamilla was the wild card, unpredictable in her strikes, as if she strove to kill everything in her path.

  Rage set a collision course with Thane. Detonation imminent. He'd encountered the shadows once before, a different sort of demon than the mundane type they usually battled--it had happened the night Kendra died with his dagger in her gut, which had strengthened the slave bond...the night Bjorn vanished. A single scratch could have devastating consequences.

  Thane stepped forward, intending to help. His back burned; the wounds hadn't had time to heal.

  Do not join the fray, and do not move from this point, Bjorn said inside his head.

  Though it was an odd request, Thane acquiesced without hesitation. He trusted his friend with his life, every part of his life, whatever the circumstances.

  Bjorn swept into the heart of the battle, only, instead of producing a sword, he spread his arms. The action said, Look at me. You know who I am and what I can do. Obey me or suffer. "Enough!"

  The shadows reacted instantly and violently, shrieking and darting out of the way, out of Bjorn's reach, before disappearing altogether.

  Last time, the creatures hadn't feared the warrior. What had changed? Why had it changed?

  I shall return, Bjorn said, his tone tight with...something. Worry not. And then he, too, was gone.

  Thane shared a look of concern and frustration with Xerxes. They wanted to act. They needed to act. Their best friend could be in serious trouble. But what could they do? So far, Thane had been unable to dig up any information about what had happened to Bjorn when he'd disappeared, what his current situation was, or even the creatures. What were they, exactly?

  Even as he raged against the circumstances, he released his sword. The flames faded. "Was anyone injured?"

  A chorus of "no" rang out.

  "Dude! We've been fighting those shadows for, like, ever."

  "More like five minutes," Thane interjected.

  "Some of us a little more skillfully than others, but whatever," Axel continued, unaffected, his baby blues sparkling as he actually patted himself on the back. "Then Sgt. Buzzkill shows up, and it's over? What's up with that?"

  Lips curling in a scowl, Thane approached the warrior with menace in every step. "Say that again. I dare you."

  "Then Sgt. Buzzkill shows up--"

  "No," Koldo said, cutting him off as Thane lunged. The warrior moved in front of Axel, acting as a living shield. "No."

  Thane planted his feet and forced himself to remain in place. The two had been partnered on a few missions, and Axel had even saved Koldo's life, but that did not mean they were now as close as brothers. Why would Koldo do this?


  A grinning Axel reached around the big guy's shoulder and flipped Thane off.

  Koldo sighed.

  Perhaps they were as close as brothers. An unlikely pairing, the usually silent, always withdrawn Koldo and the irritating, irreverent Axel, but not as unlikely as, say, a Sent One and a fragile human.

  "I'm now heading this mission," Thane said. As Zacharel's second-in-command, it was only right. "Tell me everything I've missed."

  Different degrees of anger, amusement and indifference met his announcement. Even still, he was obeyed without question. Their determination to remain in the skies, wings intact, was stronger than their emotions.

  If only it were that easy for me.

  What Thane learned: the nightclubs with the highest demon activity had been searched. So had the homes with the darkest auras. A handful of demons had been captured and tortured, but no new information had been gleaned.

  The result: the Sent Ones were no closer to answers.

  If you wanted a different result, you had to do something different.

  If I were the incarnation of evil, and had just killed Germanus, the king of my greatest enemy, I would expect said enemy to come after me, determined to punish me. So, where would I hide?

  First, Thane wouldn't hide. He wasn't a coward. But demons most definitely were.

  Then again, demons were also braggarts.

  So...which would prevail? The cowardice or the pride?

  Pride. It almost always did. And pride would demand...what?

  Ego stroking. Yes. If the demon couldn't brag about what he'd done in the skies, he would resort to bragging about what he'd done down here. Human accolades were better than none.

  "The demon we're looking for has probably possessed a human in some kind of position of power. I want a list of the fifty most influential people in the area. I'm willing to bet someone has recently experienced a dark metamorphosis."

  The anger, amusement and indifference shifted to intrigue.

  "I'll do it," Jamilla said. Having been tortured by demons only a few months ago, she relished every chance to strike back. "I'll need at least twenty-four hours to go through our annals and put the list together."

  The annals recorded every move every human ever made, every word ever spoken. But because free will always played a part, demonic influence wasn't mentioned with regards to the decisions made.

  He nodded. "Koldo, talk to the rest of Zacharel's army. Send the soldiers out to watch over and protect as many citizens of New York as possible. Axel, talk to Clerici. Perhaps he can speak with the Most High and have angels dispatched, as well."

  Both warriors nodded.

  "Everyone is to come to the Downfall tomorrow night. We'll plan our next move then."

  He waited until he received some sort of agreement from each of the warriors before flaring his wings and darting into the air.

  A few seconds later, Xerxes was beside him. I know you're worried despite Bjorn's words, as am I, but this has happened to him several times before. He'll be back at the club before nightfall.

  Thane released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. As usual, his friend had known the crux of his problem. Does he suffer?

  He must, Xerxes answered honestly. Upon his return, he reacts as he does after sex.

  Bjorn hated to be touched. That rarely stopped him from taking a lover--Thane often thought his friend hoped to prove something to himself--but he always ended up withdrawing into the darkness of his mind for days afterward.

  Thane swallowed a curse as he landed on the roof of the club, a flat strip of smoked glass--like Elin's eyes--leading to his private wing. So badly he wished he could take Bjorn's place.

  Bjorn had suffered so much already, and edged ever closer to his breaking point. Familiar helplessness battered against Thane's composure, guilt a noose around his neck, choking him.

  "Cario," Xerxes suddenly roared. He jumped the ledge of the roof and arrowed through the night sky.

  Thane searched and found the girl climbing the side of the building in an effort to sneak past one of the windows.

  A few weeks ago, she had come to the club. A woman of questionable origins, like William the Ever Randy, and clearly powerful, with the ability to read others' thoughts. Thane had made a play for her. She had said no, but offered herself to Xerxes. Before the two could retire to the bedroom, she made the mistake of revealing what she'd gleaned from their thoughts.

  It had enraged them all.

  Thane had kicked her out and forbade her from returning. On her way out, she'd looked at Xerxes and said, "Remember me."

  Now, she noticed Xerxes's approach and screeched, releasing the brick to fall down, down, down, hurtling toward the earth.

  Xerxes followed, determined to catch her.

  Poor girl. When he got his hands on her, he would interrogate her--to death. She kept coming back, and he wanted to know why.

  Perhaps his questions would finally be met with answers.

  Questions. Answers.

  A reminder. Anticipation swept through Thane. He had his own interrogation to oversee, did he not?

  *

  UGH. SUMMONED BY the Big Cheese for their get-to-know-Elin chat.

  She had just finished practicing with the Multiple Scorgasms. Three hours trapped inside the gym next door to Thane's club. Today, she had not only been taught the art of throwing boulders too heavy for her to lift at targets moving too quickly for her to see, she was also given her nickname. Bonka Donk.

  Yeah. A real winner.

  Savy was Black Cawk. Don't ask anyone why. The girls snickered every time they said the name, and Elin was afraid she would, as well. Chanel was Alcoballic. Bellorie was The Little Red Rocket That Could--Rocket for short. Octavia was Kobra Kai.

  They were as serious about their nicknames as they were about their victories.

  Adrian held open the double doors, his expression blank. Great. Would giving her a hint about Thane's mood have killed him? Elin reluctantly entered the sitting room. I'm totally used to the luxury now. I won't gawk. I won't.

  "I'll be waiting in the hall when you are ready to return," Adrian said, and sealed her inside.

  Thane relaxed at the edge of a backless couch, his blond curls surprisingly tamed. I do not want to run my fingers through those curls. The robe he wore was a brilliant white, almost blinding, and without a speck of dirt. I do not want to peel the material from his body and feast on the muscles he displayed at camp.

  She wasn't attracted to him anymore.

  Tension radiated from him, making him appear bigger, stronger. More aggressive.

  I'm not intrigued by that.

  I'm not drawn to him.

  I'm scared. Right.

  "Sit," he said.

  Though she wanted to run--because she was scared, dang it--she forced herself to claim the chair across from him. Already the air seemed drenched in the most expensive champagne, with hints of cinnamon, making her head swim. And this close to Thane, the scents only intensified. Did they come from him?

  She crossed her legs in a vain attempt to slow the warmth stirring in her core.

  Would she always react to him?

  No, please, no.

  At least she was out of her skimpy uniform and in the world's most expensive pair of flannel pj's. Bellorie had sold the soft, snuggly outfit for a sapphire brooch, a ruby choker and an emerald bracelet. Parting with the jewels hurt. Bad. But there was no way she would have shown up for this meeting so scantily dressed, and she had no other clothes.

  Tomorrow, she and the girls were going shopping. She could hardly wait.

  Thane looked her over, his gaze hooded and sensual, but hiding his thoughts. He arched one golden brow. "You aren't curious about your surroundings?"

  "Not really." Though she did like seeing him in his natural habitat. "Been here, searched everything already."

  A terrible kind of stillness came over him. "You have." A statement, not a question.

  Survival
instincts flashed a yellow light inside her mind. Proceed with caution. "Well, yeah. I had to pass through to get to your--" She motioned to his bedroom with a wave of her hand. "Afternoon delight. But I didn't touch anything! Mostly."

  A volcano of fury erupted in his eyes, startling her. "Adrian," he called in a quiet tone. And yet, she heard the promise of pain and suffering.

  The male entered the room.

  "Did you forget my orders?" Thane asked, still using that shudder-inducing tone.

  What were his orders? What was going on here?

  Head high, Adrian said, "I did not. Savy and Chanel were gone. Only Bellorie and Elin remained."

  Uh-oh. Somehow, Elin had gotten him in trouble. "I was happy to help. Honest." Liar. "Well, honest-ish. Like I said, I didn't touch your stuff. Much. And I didn't break anything. For reals."

  Thane ignored her, saying to Adrian, "Never again. Do you understand?"

  She noticed he didn't bother with an "or else." But then, he mustn't need to.

  Adrian nodded and backed from the room, shutting the door behind him.

  "Never again what?" Elin asked. "Disobey you?"

  "That, too."

  "But he didn't."

  "He did. And now, that line of conversation is over." A moment passed before Thane's features smoothed out, the sheen of rage falling away. He still managed to give off an uneasy vibe. Why? Because she'd seen his postcoital leftovers?

  He stood, and her eyes widened as he approached her.

  In her mind, the yellow light flashed again. Yellow. Yellow. Suddenly red. She stiffened. What was he going to do?

  "I'm innocent!" she shouted.

  "How many times must I reassure you?"

  He merely sat on the coffee table in front of her, his knees caging her legs, and she breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn't so bad. Then he placed scabbed-over palms on the tops of her thighs. The contact electrified her, and she had to mask a gasp with a cough. And, oh, his champagne scent was even stronger now, making the ache so much worse.

  "What happened to your hands?" she asked in an effort to distract herself.

  "What was deserved."

  O-kay. But why had he deserved to be cut? And did the wounds hurt him? Acting on impulse, she kissed the tip of her index finger and lightly pressed it on the angriest wound, as her mother used to do to her.

  "There. They have to get better now."

  He sat very still, his expression frozen.

  It hit her then. What she'd done--and to whom she'd done it. She nearly erupted in flames of embarrassment. "Uh, I mean... Wow, look at the time. Maybe I should go?"