Burning Dawn

by Gena Showalter

  "How much would she charge?"

  "Usually she likes souls, but since you're my bestie, I'm sure she'd give you a discount. Shall I call her?"

  I'm her bestie? Elin grinned so wide her cheeks hurt. "Yes, please."

  Bellorie drew her cell from her pocket and dialed the number. Elin listened to the one-sided conversation with interest.

  "Your talents are needed....Yeah, yeah, long time no speaky....Listen, Thane has a girlfriend now....I know, weird, right....Yeah, the paintings, like you did for the Lords of the Underworld....Perfection....Sure, sure, but I want my girl Bonka to have a few as queen as the castle....Okay, I'll find out." She put her hand over the mouthpiece and said to Elin, "In payment, she wants to be bartender and karaoke host tonight."

  That was all? "Done!" Thane wouldn't mind. Surely he wouldn't. Free labor. And what harm could one female do?

  Bellorie removed her hand and said, "It's on like Donkey Kong."

  The call ended after a high-pitched "woo-hoo."

  Clapping, Elin jumped up and down. "This is going to be so beyond amazing! When did she think she could have everything ready?"

  "Five minutes."

  What! "How?" It should be impossible, even for an immortal.

  "Don't ask, remember? She always makes you regret it. Also...don't pull the happiness trigger just yet." Bellorie nibbled on her bottom lip. "Whatever she shows you, you have to love it. Gush, compliment her excessively, whatever it takes. Really lay it on thick. Never seen anything so magnificent, blah, blah, blah. Otherwise, she will make you a member of her portrait-of-the-month club and send you a new one every four weeks--and you will want to gouge out your own eyes, then scrub your brain with bleach to erase the memory."

  Unfazed, Elin said, "This Anya sounds just like my mother. Trust me, we'll get along just fine."

  Bellorie cringed. "I'm suddenly thinking this was a huge mistake. If she hurts you, Thane will go butcher block on her. If Thane goes butcher block on her, Lucien will declare war against the Sent Ones. If Lucien declares war against the Sent Ones, Bjorn and Xerxes will slaughter the Lords of the Underworld to protect their boy. The world will bleed. Oh, look. Cookies!" She skipped to the tray of food in the corner of the room.

  No matter what, I'll be on my best behavior. Elin hoped to make Thane's life better, not worse.

  A daunting task, she knew, because he would resist. She would be poking at his wounds, pulling back centuries-old scabs. But she was up for the challenge. Look how far she'd come already! He considered her a welcome part of his day...and night.

  "I can totally tell you didn't bake these," Bellorie said, holding up one of the cookies, crumbs raining down. "You know how? Because they're delicious."

  Elin rolled her eyes. "Enough about my terrible cooking."

  "If you can't handle the heat, don't turn on the oven. No, seriously. Please, don't ever turn on the oven."

  She snorted.

  Bellorie waved her over. "Come on. You've got to try these."

  Feeling lighter than she had in weeks, Elin skipped to her friend. Life was absolutely perfect.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  A MISSION LIKE all the rest. Productive yet unsatisfying. Thane and the other Sent Ones had killed over two dozen demons, but the prince remained at bay, as always, and now Thane had to wonder where the fiend was and what he was doing...what he was planning.

  Nothing good, that much was certain.

  A sense of impending doom had taken up residence upon Thane's shoulders.

  Finished for the night, he, Bjorn and Xerxes entered the club and, in unison, drew up short. The Downfall had been transformed. From elegant debauchery to down-and-dirty sorority. Neon signs silently shouted Ladies' Night! Free Beer! from all over the walls.

  In the corner was a booth with a poster overhead. It read Reward for Info Leading to Cameo's Freedom and Torin's Return.

  Cameo, the keeper of Misery. A Lord/Lady of the Underworld. Currently trapped inside a powerful spear.

  Lucien had been a help to Thane, on Bjorn's behalf. A favor was now owed.

  He would send Elandra to research the spear. She was a part of Zacharel's army Thane usually tried to avoid, but she knew more about ancient weapons than anyone else.

  As for Torin, the keeper of Disease, he wasn't sure where to begin. But Axel would know. That boy could find anything, anywhere.

  Anya, Lucien's blonde and beautiful fiancee, manned the bar, pouring drinks without any rhyme or reason, mixing liquors that didn't belong together, making a huge mess, and teaching Elin how to do the same. But obviously the two were having a blast.

  Elin's grin was huge. "I'm calling this one the Barking Kitty Toadstool," she shouted as she held up a glass of glowing pink liquid. "You can suck it, Anya. There's no way your Mooing Zebra Bird Perch can compare."

  A chorus of "hoorah" met the pronouncement, and Elin drained every drop.

  "Do another," someone shouted. "Only, make it spank Anya even harder!"

  Anya threw a knife at the speaker, and if not for the girl's quick reflexes, the goddess would have taken out her eye.

  "Can't," Elin said with a shake of her head. "I promised the old ball and chain I'd never do sixteen shots in a single night ever again, and I never break my promises."

  "So, do seventeen, you idiot!" someone else instructed.

  "Woo-hoo," a thousand girls seemed to yell at once, and Elin nodded, as if they were extremely wise.

  There were no male patrons. Maybe because there was another sign proclaiming all men would be castrated on sight. A group of female gorgons stood on tables singing.... He wasn't sure what the butchered song was supposed to be.

  "I'm both awed and horrified," Bjorn said.

  "I fear for my precious," Xerxes said, cupping his hands between his legs. "But I must admit, I love what your Elin has done with the place. The decor is absolutely stunning."

  Nothing from the treasure chest had been used. Only clothing. Bras dangled from the new signs, and underwear swung from the chandeliers.

  "Mmm, the man-meat has arrived," a woman said. Soft fingers sifted through Thane's wings, and he swung around to confront the culprit. "Yeah, baby. Yeah. Momma's got a ferocious appetite tonight. She's not gonna stop eating until she's devoured every crumb."

  "Hey! No touching!" Elin shrieked, and suddenly she was between Thane and the female--Kaia, a Harpy dating Strider, the keeper of Defeat and a fierce Lord of the Underworld. Elin must have dived over the counter and skidded across the tile. "He's mine."

  His chest puffed with pride. She'd just claimed him a second time. And this time, she'd done it in front of witnesses.

  But he'd forgotten to warn her. Never challenge a Harpy. Unless you were prepared to lose a limb--and all of your internal organs.

  "News flash, little flame." Kaia the Wing Shredder was a redheaded beauty with a mile-long nasty streak. "I done did the touching. So, what are you gonna do about it, huh?"

  "I'm going to break your fingers--then your face," Elin proclaimed.

  Thane was about to throw the fragile human behind him and say goodbye to his friendship with the Lords when Kaia grinned and nodded. "That's better, Bonka Donk. A whole lot better."

  Elin returned her grin. "I know, right. I'm such a badass it's scary."

  The two high-fived.

  "But seriously," Elin said, wagging a finger at the Harpy. "Thane. Off-limits. No exceptions."

  "Okay, okay." Kaia held up her hands, all innocence. "I'll save my love taps for our dodge-boulder game."

  Elin threw her arms around Thane and gave him a hug. "Oh, baby, did I tell you the good news? The girlfriends, consorts, wives--whatever!--of the Lords of the Underworld just joined the National Dodge Boulder League."

  Kaia drummed her fire-engine-red claws together. "All we're missing for total domination is a supercool team name."

  "Just call yourselves what the Scorgasms do," Elin suggested helpfully. "'Losers.'"

  Kaia hissed.

&nbs
p; "I heard that!" Anya prepared to launch another knife, this time at Elin.

  Comments from surrounding immortals--and eavesdroppers--came in quick.

  "Oh, no, she didn't."

  "Oh, sweet hairy goodness, our little Bonka Donk is already laying down the smack."

  "Fight. Fight. Fight."

  Enough. Thane cupped Elin's cheeks and forced her attention to turn to him. "Are you having fun?"

  "Dude! So much!" She threaded her fingers through his hair, and just like that, the rest of the world faded from his awareness. "What about you?"

  "Now I am." In her presence, he felt lighter, even free, as if invisible chains had at last fallen away from him.

  "Wait till you see the rooms," she said, twirling strands of his hair. "You're going to love them so hard, you'll probably make a baby together."

  "As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

  "I am." She kissed his chin and beamed up at him. "It's like I ordered you from a catalog. Like I said, I'll take that gorgeous face, and that sexy body, now add a dash of sweetness and a smidgen of protectiveness, and, okay, yeah, just go ahead and dip him in raging lust."

  He grinned. "There are no changes you would make to me?"

  "Nope. Not a single one."

  "So I'm perfect?"

  "For me," she whispered, a ragged edge to her tone. "You're perfect for me. But what about you? Would you change something about me?"

  Reeling from her admission, he said, "You are flawless." Except for your expiration date. He frowned at the unwelcome thought.

  Must do something. Soon.

  Problem was, he was still without a solution. All he knew was that he wouldn't be killing her in an attempt for immortal regeneration.

  He thought about the two males in the Army of Disgrace with human wives.

  Zacharel's woman, Annabelle, had been marked by a demon as a teenager, part of her soul stolen. The warrior had had to cleanse the evil and patch her soul with a piece of his own, twining their life spans.

  That wasn't feasible with Elin. Her soul was intact. Koldo's woman had bonded to the River of Life, becoming a Sent One.

  No one knew how she'd initiated the bonding.

  Perhaps Thane would supply Elin with a fresh vial of the Water every day. At the very least, it would slow her aging.

  Under Germanus's reign, all Sent Ones had been forced to endure a severe whipping and give up something beloved to acquire a single vial of the Water. Now, Clerici offered the Water freely, but there was a line of Sent Ones waiting to approach the shore, and it was at least three years long, making it even more difficult to get.

  Perhaps someone could be bribed to give up a space at the front of the line.

  "I have a surprise for you," Elin said, returning his attention to her. "The most wonderful, amazing surprise in the history of...ever."

  One of his brows rose in question. "Is it you, naked in my bed?"

  "No. It's better."

  "There is nothing better than that."

  *

  I'VE GOT A new life goal, Elin thought. Thane had stepped into the bar, and in a flash of intuition, she'd known she'd been born to make him happy. Not just to help him heal. Not just to amuse and delight him. But to usher in true happiness.

  "Take me to the suite," she whispered, and nibbled on his earlobe. "I'll show you."

  He stalked forward, dragging her with him. Girls moaned about losing "the best worst bartender of all time" and it made her eyes a wee bit misty. She was accepted here, even liked, and totally appreciated for her amazing talents.

  "You guys come, too," she called over her shoulder, pinning Bjorn and Xerxes with an I-mean-business stare. "You have to see this."

  They blinked in surprise but followed.

  "Don't forget to tell me the verdict," Anya called.

  Elin flashed her a thumbs-up.

  Inside the suite, trepidation nearly got the better of her, but she pointed to the far wall. "There."

  Thane looked, tensed. His expression gave nothing away.

  Every nerve in her body suddenly felt exposed, raw.

  "Well," she said, glancing over Bjorn and Xerxes. They were just as unreadable. "What do you think?"

  Silence.

  Not even crickets dared chirp.

  She peered at the painting Anya had brought, trying to see the artwork as the warriors must. It was a nearly life-size canvas, with Thane in the center, and Bjorn and Xerxes flanking him. A position she'd seen firsthand. Thane's wings were stretched out behind the others, and it was difficult to tell where his ended and theirs began, because theirs were flared, as well. All three males were weaponless, but then, they didn't need weapons. They were weapons.

  They were shirtless, their fierce muscles on display, their skin splattered with spots of crimson. Unfortunately, they wore pants. The material was white and kind of loose, like the bottom of a robe. Behind them was absolute destruction. Blood dripped. The bodies of demons lay in pieces.

  "If you don't like it--" she said.

  "I don't like it," Thane interjected.

  Oh. Her shoulders drooped. She'd been so certain he'd go gaga, the way she had. The violent images had barely even registered.

  "I love it," he added.

  Oh! Such relief. "I had a few others made, and--"

  "Where?" he rushed out. "I want to see."

  "Your room."

  He dragged forward and shouldered his way inside. Then he gaped. This time, changes were everywhere. From the massive sleigh bed, to the gold-inlaid dresser, to the nightstands made entirely from jade. The walls were peppered with photographed portraits of, well, her.

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks as Bjorn and Xerxes filed in behind her, determined to see what else she'd done.

  Anya had taken one look at her and snapped her fingers. "I know just the thing," she'd said, and commanded Bellorie to fetch her Canon. Then she'd proceeded to direct Elin to "make love to the camera"..."make hate to the camera"..."make a thousand babies with the camera." Yeah. Weirdest twenty minutes ever.

  But Elin had grinned and posed, and scowled and posed, and laughed and posed. And now, the photos of her face and all its many emotions stared at her from every direction of the room.

  "This..." Thane said, his voice thick with...what?

  "I can take them down."

  "No!" he growled. Then more softly repeated, "No. These are even better than the painting. I'll never want to leave the room."

  "Tell me you have a sister, Elin," Bjorn said. "I'll be whipped. I don't ca--" Abruptly, he went quiet.

  She turned to look at him, saw that he'd paled. "What's wrong?"

  His haunted gaze met Thane's before moving to Xerxes. "It's happening again. I'm being summoned, and must--"

  He was gone. There one moment, vanished the next, with no time to even finish his sentence.

  Thane said only one word. "Lucien."

  A few seconds later, as if Lucien had been waiting for a summons, the scarred warrior appeared in the hallway. "If you expect me to pay Anya's bar tab--"

  "Bjorn. Now," Thane gritted, and the warrior nodded grimly.

  Like Bjorn, Lucien vanished.

  "What's going on?" Elin asked.

  Xerxes stomped into the sitting room to pour himself a drink.

  Thane gave Elin a gentle push toward the front door. "Go back to the party, kulta."

  "No." He was upset. He needed her. "I'm staying with you."

  "Elin--"

  "Thane." She pushed him onto the couch and climbed onto his lap, snuggling close while being careful not to give Xerxes a peep show. She wasn't wearing panties. "Tell me."

  Her beautiful Sent One enfolded her in his arms and buried his nose in her hair, inhaling. "Shadow demons are forcing Bjorn to go somewhere. We don't know where, and until we do, we can't help him. Lucien is tracking him."

  "And you wanted me to leave because..."

  "Because my concern will make me...edgy. I may not be nice to you."

 
Silly rabbit. "You don't always have to be nice to me." He would have to guard every word, every action, and that kind of sounded like torture. "You only ever have to be yourself. I can deal."

  He exhaled, his breath tickling her hair over her brow. "Now who's the one who says romantic things?"

  An hour passed. Then two. And Thane did become grouchy. She distracted him to the best of her ability with stories of her childhood. The embarrassment of having her mother come to her elementary school to speak at career day--and teaching the kids how to gut a fish. The time her best friend from junior high stayed the night and her parents walked out of the bathroom in towels. Obviously, they'd just showered together. Gross!

  Both Thane and Xerxes listened and even cracked a smile. But the tension never left them.

  A little before the third hour came to a close, the scarred Lord returned. He was pallid, his eyes--one brown, one blue--glazed with horrors no man should ever have to see.

  Thane set Elin aside and jumped to his feet. "Did you find him? Can you take us to him?"

  Without a word, the warrior stumbled to the wet bar. He didn't bother with a glass, just drank straight from the whiskey bottle. When he'd drained half the contents, he turned to the men, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  "Tell us," Thane commanded.

  "Your friend is... No, I can't take you to him. I don't know where he is. I was able to track him, but once there, I had a hard time finding my way out. I couldn't go back the way I'd come, because his trail had already gone cold and twisted, like before. But I saw him. I saw what she does to him."

  She?

  "You were right, Thane," the warrior said. "The queen is responsible. She's protecting him--because she's wed to him."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  THANE REELED.

  After Lucien dropped the marriage bombshell, he went into detail about everything he'd seen.

  Bjorn, bound to a rocky wall, helpless as a dark shadow approached. Obviously the queen. And when she reached him, the center of her darkness opened like a mouth, revealing an even blacker gloom. She enveloped him, until there was no sign of him.

  What was she doing to him? Tormenting him? Violating him?

  Knowing Bjorn would return soon and that he would not want Elin to witness his plight, Thane escorted her to her room. There was a bed now. A big, beautiful one, with four posters and designs carved into each.

  "Thank you for what you did today. Everything you did. But it will be best if Bjorn doesn't see you." He explained the gist of the situation. "He won't be...right when he returns."