“Right. So remember that he doesn’t expect me there. He doesn’t have the advantage of surprise that we will. Prepare for all those feelings because, trust me, I’ll be having some murderous thoughts of my own and will bury them to get the job done.” I pressed a kiss to the exposed skin at his neck. He shivered and squeezed me tight. “Throwing him off his guard will be how we win this.”
“Or, we could run away to a deserted island and live happily ever after.”
I laughed into his chest. “You’re joking.”
“Yes. I am.” Another brush of his lips to my temple. “It’s a pleasant thought, but he’d still be out there.”
“Exactly,” I whispered. “So, let’s go home and not think about it till we have to. Make me forget for a while, Uriel.”
“Yes, domina.”
With a crack, we sifted through the Void, the amorphous gray shapes spinning past us only amplifying my fear. Like watching ghosts cross a grave, I was afraid of what was to come. No matter how brave a face I put on for Uriel.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nadya
Our plan was for me to enter Ivangorod with Skaal, not Uriel. Skaal could escort me in there without any questions or even second glances, and then I could station myself in a more defensible position before Vladek knew I was there. Carowyn and Dommiel would come, too, entering by other miens and flanking me for extra protection. The truth was that the three of them and Uriel were a small defense in the middle of Vladek’s court, but it would be enough to keep his men at bay while our plan played out. Ultimately, it would all come down to Uriel. And me.
We stood outside of Carowyn’s shop on an empty street in London. Uriel hugged me close, while I wrapped my arms around his waist, both of us just feeling each other. Gaining strength from one another as best we could. I’d worn the clothes Carowyn had given me beneath my white cloak. I’d hide myself until the time came, but I needed clothes that I could run in. One thing was for sure: even if we managed to get Vladek to take the bait, we’d need to run. Fast.
Uriel combed his fingers under my hair, wrapping one hand around my nape. “Kiss me,” he whispered, sounding nothing like the all-powerful archangel I knew him to be.
Tilting my head for him, I tiptoed up and captured his mouth with mine. Not a sweet kiss, but one of determination. Of purpose. I gripped his bare biceps, his body encased in his armor, using the momentum to thrust up into his mouth, kissing him hard in desperate sweeps. He gave everything back, fisting my hair at the back of my skull before breaking away on a groan.
“Nadya, Nadya.”
“All will be well.” I smiled, knowing this was the right path. The only path.
“I know. Stay close to Skaal.” He closed his eyes and heaved out a breath. “Even when you come forward in front of Vladek. Stay near him.”
“I will.” Clutching him tight, I said, “You just focus on winning the fight.”
He shook his head. “That won’t be a problem.”
I smirked. “So confident.”
He cupped my face, leaning close, “Nothing will keep me from avenging what he’s done. To all of the innocents. To me. But mostly what he’s done to you.” Something feral skated across his face. “I’m going to make him pay for every mark he made, every pain he caused you.”
“Uriel.”
I brushed my fingertips across his mouth, that wide beautiful mouth promising me something I no longer needed. I realized then that though I might not need it, he did. He was created to exact justice on evil. And Vladek had done more harm to innocents on this earth than any other demon lord. But it was what he’d done to me that put that bolt of wrath in the harsh lines of my lover’s face.
A crackling snap and Skaal appeared on our left. He cleared his throat. “Are you ready?”
I stepped back, lifting Uriel’s large hand and pressing a kiss into his palm. Holding my gaze, he lifted my hood and tucked my loose strands of hair inside—now my natural platinum blonde. The disguise was useless now. I just needed to stay hidden until my time was up.
“Remember,” he said, “don’t reveal yourself unless you absolutely have to. If it all goes to hell, follow Skaal, Carowyn, and Dommiel. They’ll get you out.”
“We’ll protect her,” added Skaal.
Uriel gave a thankful nod to him before leaning down and pressing one last kiss to my forehead. I stepped away, then turned and rushed back, clasping my hands around his neck, the steel of his armor cold beneath the layers of my clothes.
I pulled myself up and his head down to whisper in his ear. “No matter what happens, know this. We came out once, stronger than before. And now, we both have something neither of us did the first time.”
“What’s that?”
I pulled back and made sure he saw it in my eyes. “Our love.”
With that, I marched to Skaal and took his hand. My man of marble was still there, but a new fire burned the brightest blue behind his eyes. An electric storm gathered in the tempest of my archangel. Our own Armageddon was at hand, and we both wore the armor Vladek couldn’t bind or break with a thousand whips and chains.
“No matter what,” I mouthed to him before Skaal sifted us away to Ivangorod.
…
Standing in the frosty night outside the high walls of the Ivangorod Fortress on the Narvo River, the echo of Vladek’s hellhounds barking sounded like my own personal death knell. The fortress was lit only by torchlight with a line of demon guards all wearing black leather jackets with what I knew was matching insignia stitched on the back of each—a red skull with curling horns and sharpened fangs. Vladek’s brand and logo. Not very original, but it instilled fear in the toughest of demons all the same.
This medieval castle wasn’t the luxurious palace that Lisabette had kept in Estonia. It was big and hard and cold, exactly like its king who held court inside. The town of Ivangorod held thousands within his army and their consorts and slaves. Once the apocalypse began, Vladek had turned this Russian town into his own home base, constructing an arena at the center of the open-air fortress for entertaining his hordes, keeping them well-fed with blood and flesh.
I was thankful to keep my eyes on the ground, demure and submissive, my hands clasped before me, my hood up and covering my face and hair. Skaal kept a hand on the back of my neck over the cloak, a show of ownership to the guards who stopped him at the back gate reserved for those who worked for Vladek. The rest of those who came for the fight, to be dazzled by Vladek’s magnificence and his games, would have to enter at the front gate.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, my lord.”
“Odin Shans has been busy,” Skaal replied. “Business has been good.”
A throaty chuckle from the guard. “You’ve brought your own pussy tonight? That’s out of character.”
I felt the top of my hood being lifted, then Skaal’s hand knocked the other demon’s away. “Not yours to touch, Damian. This one is mine only.”
Another chuckle. “As you wish, my lord.”
Then Skaal’s hand was at the small of my back, thrusting me forward through a dark archway. We moved into the cold interior of Ivangorod’s walls, sweeping down a long corridor, past small chambers, even the souvenir shop from before the war that had been gutted at Vladek’s orders and made into an arsenal of weapons for his men.
Skaal spurred me on until we were finally exiting through another archway out into the open-air court. My stomach convulsed into a block of stone, the familiar sounds and smells catapulting me to my days as Vladek’s concubine. The yelps and snapping growls of hellhounds fighting in the arena—a favorite prelude to Vladek’s main event—was greeted with howling cheers from the masses.
Vladek had erected towering scaffolding in black steel in amphitheater fashion around his dirt fighting pit. His throne—a revolting assimilation of human bone, polished and artistically crafted together�
��would be sitting on a dais at the head of the pit with his many guards flanking him on all sides. This is the sight I knew awaited us once we entered the arena.
“This way.” Skaal urged me toward a narrow entrance near where I knew his throne would sit.
Skaal had waited to bring us until he knew the main event would be near. He didn’t want to take a chance of me being recognized before it was time. It had taken me an entire day to make him understand this was the best and only way. The thing was, Skaal had his own motivations. He hated Vladek. Loathed him with a deep burning disgust. Not only for what he’d seen him do to me, but also because Skaal wasn’t entirely the bad boy he portrayed himself to be. He just didn’t have the stomach for Vladek’s type of rule and his constant slaughter and enslavement of humans. Once I’d convinced him this was our best way of doing away with him, he’d finally relented.
As we came out of the dark passageway into a separate seating area for the honored guests, basically for Vladek’s cronies, my heart lurched in my chest. In the distance stood the tower which Vladek had made his bedchamber. My prison for so long. He’d had the medieval stone interior transformed with black velvets, red satin, gold brocades and crystal chandeliers. All in an attempt to seduce me. The facade of luxury was tainted with the view of the whipping bench he kept in the corner. Just for me. It was also decorated with a black satin cushion for my knees and velvet-lined cuffs for my wrists just so that I was comfortable for his beatings.
Bile rose in my throat. I didn’t lift my head as Skaal guided me into a corner box. These seats were wide and private with overhanging awnings to protect from weather. He tucked me into the seat closest to the steel wall and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“Do you see him?” My breath frosted the air. “Uriel?”
“Not yet,” he said. “You’re concealed. It’s safe to look. If you want.” He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Heaving out a breath, I finally peeked from under my hood, snagging on the nightmare on the dais below and to our right. The embodiment of evil and cruelty decked out in brown leather pants and a black vest, no shirt, his dark hair blowing around his devil’s horns, lounging back in complete ease was the demon king, Vladek. Next to him stood my sister, her hair plaited in a long braid, exposing her scarred face. Obviously on her master’s order. I knew his brand of cruelty too well. A phantom sting pinched me where the brand on my hip used to be.
“Skaal,” I whispered in desperation, panic seizing my limbs.
He took my hand in both of his and squeezed hard. “We’re going to get through this.” He dipped his head close and spoke low so the demon couple in the box to our right didn’t hear us. “I’m right here. Others are here, too. And…so is Uriel.” He caught my gaze, an understanding in his eyes that was almost heartbreaking. “He won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Thank you, Skaal.” I squeezed his hand again. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done. All the risks you’ve taken.”
A handler had a choker chain around the champion hound and was pulling him out of the gate while two other brawny men dragged the dead one out. My attention kept flicking to the dais where an aura of malice rippled outward with a tangible pulse licking along my skin.
The stands were full, the masses drinking, smoking, laughing. One couple was even fucking on the top tier, while two demons drank from ale tankards and watched. Yes, this was all very normal, a familiar sight. Except tonight wasn’t normal. A distinct profile caught my eye from the lower stands to our left. Carowyn winked at me, her gold-eyed gaze swiveling back to the arena like the rest of the horde. Dommiel must be nearby.
“Where is Uriel?”
Skaal nudged me with an elbow and pointed to the archway to the left. The drum corps that always pounded out a beat to the entrance of a fight in the arena of Ivangorod started drumming hard. It was a darker dirge than most. The audience rose and hissed when the gates opened and Uriel stepped through, escorted on both sides toward the arena gate.
My breath caught in my throat. This was really happening.
Vladek’s relaxed pose straightened, his black-clawed hands gripping the arms of his throne. He sat forward, watching the archangel I loved draw nearer with murder in his gaze. When I thought fear would swamp me and drag me under, I looked at Uriel.
Focused forward, his armored wings arched high, he strode with confident steps. Dressed in black leather pants and the armor over his bare chest, he was ready with the one sword I’d watched him sharpen for hours just last night.
He’d sat on the floor by the fire with Deimos curled in his lap, sharpening the blade over a whetstone with infinite care. He told me it was George’s sword, one he’d used to kill countless demon spawn as well as a demon prince, one of Vladek’s brothers. He said that the blood of so much evil had soaked into the blade named Silversong and now the blade called for more, thirsty for what only a demon’s blood could quench.
I’d curled up on the sofa and watched him, listening to him hum and chant softly, singing old words to the sword, asking for the hammered iron and steel to be true to its calling. When the song was done and the blade razor-sharp, he’d set it aside, lifted me into his arms, cradled me close, and took me to bed where he’d spoken to me with his body, loving me long and hard in the dark with a desperation that frightened me. It was the most beautiful and heartbreaking night of my life. Neither of us was sure how this would all end, but change was coming. Death was coming.
“No matter what,” I snapped back and whispered to myself, sending him my love through the air laced with bloodlust and sin. And revenge.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Uriel
This motherfucker. Too long I’d waited. Far too long. I still had one more hurdle, and there was no way I was holding myself back like I had in Yorick’s and Zigor’s rings. I’d kept my powers tamped down on purpose, but the vibration humming through my veins warned me I was at detonation level. My need to eviscerate as I looked on this fucking piece of shit who’d hurt my Nadya was a primal longing like no other.
Vladek visibly forced himself to relax, hunching his shoulders to one side of his throne. But I knew what he was. A feral lion about to strike.
“I can’t believe you actually came back here.” He glanced at Lisabette standing to his right. “Your mistress has missed you. Though she’s not as pretty as when you left her.”
I said nothing. Gave him nothing. Which only stoked his anger.
“I’ve been told something rather disconcerting, angel.”
“Archangel,” I corrected, fury lacing each syllable.
That’s when his eyes flicked to the sides and thirty guards armed with ether ammo guns marched onto the arena floor. It was just as we’d suspected. He wasn’t planning on letting me fight his champion. I only hoped that Nadya was right and that her gamble would give me what I wanted. The chance to kill him.
He stood to his full height, nearly seven feet like me, and stepped down one step of the dais, his obsidian gaze glinting with hellfire.
“I’ve been told you have something that’s mine.” His voice was a whip of razors and hate, slashing out with dark promise.
I couldn’t help but smile. “She never was yours. She never will be yours.”
“Take him!” he bellowed.
Without acknowledging the approaching soldiers, I said in a steady voice, “Don’t you want to hear my offer first?”
He held up a staying hand. His men stopped halfway to me, guns up and aimed.
“You’re in no position to bargain, asshole.”
“I’m in the perfect position.” The audience was so quiet now you’d think we were completely alone. Thankfully, all eyes were watching. “It’s true, I have something you want.”
He took a threatening step forward, balled his fists, then kept coming, four guards flanking him as he marched out into the arena, k
icking up dirt with his boots as he approached. He stopped ten yards away.
“Tell me where she is, and I’ll make your death swift.” The venom in his voice assured me that was a lie.
I shook my head. “Fight me in one-on-one combat, and I’ll tell you where she is.” I could lie as easily as him.
He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, gauging my game. He knew what it was. My fingers twitched, wanting to wrap around steel and embed it in his throat.
“Unless you’re afraid to fight me,” I bellowed loud enough I heard it echo up to the sky. “My lord,” I added mockingly.
“I am going to gut you right here on the arena floor,” he said with sickening relish. “By the time I saw off your pretty wings and tear your spine from your body”—spittle flew from his mouth, rage burned in his eyes—“you’ll tell me where she is.”
“So you are afraid,” I accused, realizing that Nadya was right. He’d never match me in a fair fight. Unless coerced by something more than fury—his lust and his ego.
“Did you fuck her?” he spat, his sharp canines and demented temper contorting his perfectly angled face into something monstrous.
“Yes, he did,” came Nadya’s strong and steady voice above us to the right.
My heart sank into the dirt floor of the arena. Vladek stared in complete shock. She stood on the lower level of the private boxes of scaffolding closer to the dais. Her cloak gone, her white-blonde, silken hair lifted in the cold breeze. She held something small in her hand, the locket that usually dangled at her throat.
Her voice was all sweetness when she added, “He was everything you weren’t. He is everything you aren’t. So far better than you, in every possible way.” She laughed and shook her head. “I screamed his name every time he made me come and cried tears of absolute joy when he was inside me.”
I was momentarily stunned. She was going too far. Vladek was visibly changing right before me. His horns actually curled out another inch. His claws were embedded into his palm, dripping black blood into the dirt. But he didn’t move. Just stared at her like she was some alien creature he’d never seen before.
Coldest Fire (Dominion series) Page 21
