Burning Dawn

by Gena Showalter

  She had scars on her hands and back. Scars he should have kissed when he'd had the chance. She grew more beautiful every time he looked at her.

  She had two different smiles. One she gave to the Downfall's patrons. He'd been treated to it during his meeting with the Sent Ones. And then there was the one she'd given to him in the elevator. The first was sort of mechanical, definitely forced. The other was soft and sweet, loaded with promise.

  What do you know about her, besides the physical?

  She was a startling combination of attitude, kindness, and wit. Oh, was she amusing. Who else wanted to open a bakery when her culinary dishes tasted like cardboard--at best? Who else offered to go to first base so hard? Or teased him about playing games?

  She'd missed Bellorie, a female who had caused her untold horror. She had found a demon's screams too much to bear. She was merciful.

  He remembered the hurt in her eyes after he'd pushed her off his lap. He remembered the way she'd bravely withstood his shouts of accusation, refusing to back down even though he could have ended her life with a flick of his wrist. She was sensitive, and she was brave.

  She wasn't going to survive with the Phoenix. Not this time. The warrior Orson--the one who'd had that twisted gleam in his eyes when he'd insisted the halfling be returned--wanted her for sinister purposes. He would break her.

  He imagined Elin chained to the male's bed. Her face battered and swollen, marked by tears. Her skin black-and-blue with bruises. He imagined her cries for help going unheeded--or worse, being met with laughter. He imagined her spirit broken, her sparkle forever extinguished.

  The thoughts utterly shredded him.

  He'd made a huge mistake, hadn't he.

  Elin wasn't a weed. She was a rose. And one day, when he stood at the end of his life and looked back, he was going to regret his actions this day. More than anything else he'd ever done. He felt the knowledge in every cell in his body.

  He didn't bother slowing his momentum. He simply dived and twisted, heading back in the direction he'd come.

  Keep Elin at the club, he projected to both Xerxes and Bjorn.

  A tense pause razed his nerves. Then, I'm sorry, my friend, Xerxes said, but it's too late for that.

  Is she with the Phoenix? No. Please, no.

  She isn't. I dropped her off at her human home.

  Thane's fault. All his fault. She was alone, without any means of protection. But at least she wasn't with the Phoenix. He was glad his friend had more sense than he. Where?

  Xerxes rattled off the address. There's something you should know.

  More? Tell me.

  You won't like it.

  He wouldn't groan. Tell me anyway.

  Very well. I...bonded with her. I can speak inside her mind, and she can speak into mine.

  A violent wave of possessiveness surfaced, and he had to swallow a mouthful of threats. Only Thane should have the privilege. Even if he didn't deserve it. Why?

  I knew you'd want her back, and I wanted to keep a line of communication open.

  Wise. But he should have been the one to do it. Foolish Thane. Thank you, my friend.

  That's not all. I saw into her memories, Thane. They're bad. Really bad.

  *

  NIGHT HAD FINALLY FALLEN.

  Elin nearly broke down when Xerxes deposited her on her parents' old doorstep. The four-bedroom spread in the valley, with the gorgeous red mountains in the backyard, brought back the best--and worst--memories. She decided not to ask the new owners for a tour, and left.

  She trudged four miles to the strip and pawned one of her bracelets. Though the diamond band was worth thousands, she only got five hundred. A hose job, but whatever. Because she was without any type of ID, she was unable to rent a car. Or rent a room. No one was gonna fall for the old "the dog ate it" excuse. But thanks to the daily paper she purchased from the convenience store across the road, she had been able to call people selling cars. Problem was, most of the sellers either hadn't answered or had already sold their vehicles.

  What was she going to do?

  New life goal: come up with new life goals.

  Without a coat, she was cold. Her shoulders ached from lugging around a ten-thousand-pound bag filled with clothes and jewels. Needing a quick rest, she leaned against a shadowed wall in the alley between two buildings crying out for major repair, and sipped the hot chocolate she'd purchased with the paper.

  Maybe it was a good thing she was without any ID. The entire world might think she'd killed her father and Bay, and abducted her mother. Her name might come with media attention she couldn't afford. Ugh. From now on, she was off grid. Anything to keep the Phoenix from finding her. Heck, anything to keep Thane from finding her.

  As if he'd really look. Prejudiced winger! He had to go and ruin everything.

  From the corner of her eye, she noticed the shifting of certain shadows. Heart pounding, she turned to watch more intently. A moment passed. Then another. All remained still.

  No. Not true. A snakelike creature peeked from behind a trash bin. She said snakelike because the thing had gnarled antlers rising from its head, and its fangs were so long they almost scraped the ground. As it opened its mouth to unfurl its forked tongue, she saw there was another set of teeth in back.

  Elin straightened and backed away from it. Glowing red eyes followed her.

  Another snakelike creature emerged from the shadows. Then another. And another. Each one focused on her, slithering closer.

  What the heck were those things?

  "The prince would like to ssspeak with you," the one closest to her said. "Preferably alive."

  The others chortled.

  Keep a cool head.

  Use someone. Who? Xerxes? No. You've cut ties, remember? And there was no way she would throw innocents in the path of these...things.

  She dropped her chocolate, and, as the liquid gushed out, she ran, her bag slamming against her side, slowing her down. Dang it. Money or escape? She couldn't have both.

  She released the handle and, without the weight, picked up speed.

  Even still, the chortles pursued her...and closed in.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  XERXES, SHE'S NOT HERE.

  Frantic, Thane checked the entire house, misting through the walls. Two human adults and two human children were inside, but not Elin.

  Try this location. The warrior rattled off another address.

  Even more frantic now, Thane darted across the night sky. The apartment was close to the college, and young partygoers were spilling from the building. He performed the same visual sweep, scanning every face in every room. Still no sign of Elin.

  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 pica, 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.

  He couldn't stop himself from cupping the back of her neck, lifting her head and lowering his. "I'm sorry," he said, and kissed her. He had to make her understand. "I'm so sorry." He kissed her again. She stiffened and bit at him, but he never ceased his apologies. He had to win her forgiveness. "I've never been so sorry in my life."

  "Enough."

  Another kiss. "Please," he said, willing to beg.

  "No." Scowling, she pushed at him. "Stop that. Right now."

  He straightened but didn't leave her side.

  "That's not happening. That part of our relationship is over." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, as if she'd encountered something foul.

  Words could be weapons, as powerful as actions, and hers were a direct hit. I earned that and more.

  "I don't want to be here," she said, and tried to sit up.

  "Too bad." Gentle, gentle. "You're here, and I'd like you to stay."

  "No way. I'm leaving. But I'm not leaving with the Phoenix, and if you try and make me I'll scream until your head explodes."

  "You're staying," he said. "And the Phoenix are already gone." He held her down with pressure on her shoulders, peering at her intently. "Close your eyes."

  "No, I--"

  "Do it, Elin. Please. I'm not going to hurt you."

  She huffed and puffed at him, only to finish with, "Why do I need to close my eyes?"

  "I don't want you to see...." The blood. "Just do it. Please."

  Comprehension dawned, and her shudder rattled the bed. She closed her eyes.

  "Don't open them until you have permission."

  Her lips pursed. "I'm not one of your sex-slave girls in chains, nor am I your employee. If you missed the memo, I quit after I was thrown out. So, you don't get to tell me what to do anymore. And FYI, I'm only doing this because you got me away from those...those...creatures."

  "Demons," he said. "They were demons, and I'm proud of you for fighting them to the best of your ability."

  "Well, you can take your pride and shove it." She laughed bitterly, but the laugh quickly turned into a sob. When she calmed, she sighed, and it was clear she was racing from one emotional extreme to the other. "Even a dog fights when it's cornered."

  "No. Some run. But you aren't a dog. You aren't an animal. You're...precious."

  At first, she gave no reaction. Then she slapped him. Hard. "How dare you say that to me!"

  "Why?" He hated the sting. Hated what had driven her to such violence. "It's true."

  "It's not! I'm not precious to you. I'm disposable. I'm tainted."

  "No." What a fool he was. He'd once relished pain, and considered whips and chains the height of exquisite punishment. But this...this was pain. And the blunt instrument delivering it was regret. He'd lost a prize worth more than gold. He'd lost Elin's trust. "You're precious
," he insisted.

  "Well, I think you suck," she huffed, "and kind words aren't going to change my opinion."

  "You're right. No, you don't need to accuse me of lying. I have never lied to you, and I won't start now." His voice was soft, as if he hoped to soothe a frightened kitten from a tree. "I do suck. What happened shows my worthlessness, not yours."

  Silent, she looked away from him.

  He tried to ignore his hurt. Surely I'm bleeding inside. He stalked into the bathroom to wet a rag with warm water. He cleaned the blood from her skin. Her expression softened, he noticed, and he took heart. He was also pleased to note the worst of her injuries had already knitted together. The only lasting wounds she'd have to deal with were the ones left in her mind. Those, however, he couldn't heal for her.

  She cleared her throat, and when she next spoke, the anger was gone. "Why did the demons come after me? I mean, they mentioned some kind of prince, but--"

  "Prince?" The fiend had clearly made his first move.

  The fiend would pay.

  "Yes. And even though, according to you, I'm some kind of moneygrubbing gold digger, I actually have no desire to be a princess."

  The tidal wave of guilt was inescapable. "You aren't a gold digger. And the demons struck at you merely to strike at me," he said. He draped one of his robes over her body, knowing it would clean her clothing. "You may look now."

  Her lashes fluttered open. Looking anywhere but at him, she said, "Nothing's changed. I'm still the dreaded enemy. So why did you help me?"

  "You are not my enemy. I reacted poorly to your origins--"

  "Poorly? Ha!" she interjected. "That's the understatement of the year."

  He continued as if she hadn't spoken. "And I will never be able to articulate how sorry I am. It was wrong of me to blame you for the sins of another woman."

  She opened her mouth, closed it. Her gaze landed on the robe covering her, and she sighed. She eased to a sitting position, her head bowed, and her knees drawn up.

  A position of shame.

  One he knew well. One he'd vowed never to be in again, and yet, he'd driven another person to it.

  He was the one who should be ashamed. "I am so sorry, kulta."

  "Fine. Apology accepted. You're forgiven. And you're not worthless," she added grudgingly. "I can be reasonable and let go of resentment."