“I don’t want to wait. Ansel will contact me soon. After he threatened you...” He shook his head. “No.”
He’d been a slave so long. He must feel like a kid at Christmas, only ten million times more anticipatory, since this particular wish had been on his list for centuries.
Only a monster would ask him to wait.
She’d rather embrace her inner monster than lose him. “I just want to make sure we’re taking every precaution. Give me one day. Just one. I can scour the internet, check out different mythologies and see if there’s something based on Gunnar’s sword.”
He kissed her temple, and though it cost him dearly, he said, “One day, then. For you, anything.”
“Thank you, baby. Truly.”
They lounged in bed, but all too soon the clock zeroed out. They dressed, donned their swords and rifted to the spot she and Nola had agreed to meet—somewhere they’d sworn never to go, and probably the worst place on Earth. The football stadium of their high school rival, Blueberry Hill High. Under the bleachers, to be exact.
Night had fallen, and the stadium was currently empty. Vale used her cell phone as a flashlight, determined to memorize her surroundings in case she and Knox had to make a hasty getaway, and immediately regretted it. Trash was scattered about, as expected, but hidden among the empty candy bar wrappers and plastic cups were used condoms.
A Where’s Waldo of discarded peen sleeves.
At one with the darkness, Knox performed a perimeter check before taking a post at her side. Perfect timing. A rift opened a few feet away, giving Vale a peek into a well-lit...motel room? Must be. The small space had modern furnishings, with a decorating style she’d call cheap chic.
A scowling Zion marched through first, then Nola, with Bane in the rear. Suddenly three aggressive males—centuries-old enemies—were in close quarters, and unlike the assemblies, their powers remained activated.
Before a situation could develop, Vale got the ball rolling, hugging her sister, who had a little more color in her cheeks and a little less shake in her stance. “You should know,” she said, “I’m going to find a way to make you immortal without joining this war. Considering all the supernatural weapons floating around, there’s got to be a way.”
“The boys are on the case, too,” she replied.
Good. Three heads were better than one. Speaking of “the boys.” “You sure you want to stay with Zion and Bane?” she asked loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re my innocent little sis, and they—”
Both men snorted.
Bane arched a brow. “Innocent?” he asked, his voice pure butterscotch. “That’s like calling a dragon a bird.”
Nola elbowed him in the stomach. “I’m not that bad.”
“You’re right. You’re worse.”
The heat sizzling between those two...
“She’s sure,” Zion snapped, and Vale tasted citrus.
“Watch your tone,” Knox snapped back. “You speak to Vale with respect, or you don’t speak to her at all.”
That’s my man. Pride puffed up her chest. “Yeah,” she said. “Respect.”
Nola looked like she had to stifle a grin.
“If everyone walks away from this expedition with only minor injuries,” Vale said, “I’ll consider it a win. Who am I kidding? If everyone crawls away, it’ll be a win.”
“Is it my turn to speak now?” Nola asked Zion, then rolled her eyes when he offered a royal wave. “Yes, I’m sure I want to stay with these nutjobs. I like having strapping immortals at my beck and call.”
“Those immortals better like being at your beck and call, because you are the only reason my immortal offered up his guest home.” Vale flicked Knox a just go with it look. “In return, they’ll owe us. Big-time.”
He did more than go with it; he ran at full speed. “You will help us end Erik and Adonis—but you will stand down for the kill. Vale renders the final blow, and that is nonnegotiable.”
Zion popped his jaw but gave a curt nod. He’d agreed before. Why so reluctant now?
Bane gritted out, “Very well.”
“So, we’re doing this, then?” Vale asked. “We’re forming a kick-A alliance? You don’t harm us, we don’t harm you, and we all work together with a common goal?”
“I...would like that,” Knox said. His chin was up, his shoulders back, pride in every inch of his bearing. “I’ve never had true allies before.”
“Shiloh,” Bane began.
“I never gave Shiloh my word. In fact, I warned him not to trust me.” Knox looked to Vale, heartbreak in his eyes. “My king allied with his, and I was supposed to work with him. But Shiloh didn’t know Ansel had also given me a command to kill him if it would help advance my cause. So I did it. I killed a good man.”
She kissed his cheek, offering support rather than censure. What he’d done had torn him up inside, that much was obvious. Ansel had to be stopped.
Was Gunnar’s sword truly the only way?
“If you keep your word,” Knox told the others, “I’ll keep mine. I will fight to save you rather than destroy you. When Erik and Adonis have been taken out, we can reevaluate our alliance. With the warriors from the other wars joining ours, we might need to band together longer than anticipated.”
“I’ll stand with you,” Zion said.
Bane peered at Nola, silent, then nodded. “I’ll stand with you, as well.”
“Let’s get you ensconced in your new safe house, then.” Knox opened a rift, not bothering to cover it with shadows, and motioned the others to enter.
Zion stepped through first, then Nola, then Bane. The males didn’t like having people behind them, especially enemies, and repeatedly glanced over their shoulders, as if expecting an attack. Knox and Vale took up the rear, side by side.
With Bane and Zion at his side acting as lookouts, Knox guarded the rift until it closed. Vale studied the most luxurious cave in history. A limestone bedrock had collapsed, forming a gorgeous cenote, the water so clear she could observe the little fish swimming below the surface. Crystals twinkled from the ceiling, almost as dazzling as stars, and though the air had a faint musty scent, there was no hint of rot or decay.
“Careful,” Knox said to the others. “The tunnels are vast. I haven’t been down here since before our imprisonment, so I have no idea what’s happened to them. Above you is a temple. Around the temple is a jungle. There are no physical exits down here. You’ll have to rift in and out.”
“Thank you,” Nola said. “We appreciate this.” She nudged one man, then the other.
“Thank you,” Zion and Bane muttered in unison.
Knox went rigid, his dread palpable as he glanced at his ring.
“What’s wrong?” Vale asked. But she knew.
“Ansel is requesting a meeting.”
So soon? “Can you ignore him?”
He brought her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles, his gaze telling her everything. No, he couldn’t; if speaking with the king wouldn’t place his life in danger, he was compelled to answer.
“We must return home,” he said, and she knew the pull of the summons was only growing stronger.
She winked at Nola, and Nola winked back, the small action assuring Vale that all would be well. Then Knox dragged her into another antechamber, out of sight. As black branched around his eyes, he opened a shadowed rift into the bunker.
By the time the doorway closed, sealing them inside, he was shaking...couldn’t stop himself from brushing his thumb over the ring. A screen of light appeared, Ansel’s image taking shape in the center. Vale stood behind him—it—so he couldn’t see her.
“Kneel,” the purple-haired male ordered unceremoniously. His tone was hard, and it filled her with dread of her own.
A scowling Knox dropped to his knees. The ends of her fingers heated, her body gearing for a fi
ght.
“Is the Terran girl with you?” the POS asked.
Knox offered no response. At first. Compulsion proved irresistible and he soon gave a clipped nod.
She expected Ansel’s next question, yet it resurrected her ire in a hurry. “Has she taken the Mark of Disgrace?”
“No,” he said.
“Very well.” The king performed a royal motion with his hand. “Confiscate her Rifters. If she protests, hurt her. Break something.”
What was Ansel’s endgame here?
Before Knox could obey, she marched to his side and removed the crystal-metal hybrids, unwilling to put him through a physical altercation.
He accepted, his narrowed eyes projecting sorrow and rage. Trembling, he shoved the bands into his pants pocket.
“Kneel,” Ansel told her.
“Nah. I’m going to stand.” Last time, she’d knelt in a show of solidarity with Knox. Now she knew Ansel a little better and would rather die than encourage his god complex. “You aren’t my king.”
“Not yet, but soon.” Ansel raised his chin. “This is your last chance to take the mark, female.”
The sorrow and rage intensified, Knox’s sense of helplessness probably fueling the flames. Must win his freedom. Convincing him to wait even a day had been a huge mistake.
“I see your last chance and raise you two fingers.” She flipped the king a double-bird salute.
He had no idea what the gesture meant, but he did understand her intent. “Very well. You have brought this on yourself.” He offered Knox a cold smile. “You will keep the girl’s Rifters. Do not give them back for any reason.”
Knox breathed in, out. Silent. His trembling worsened.
“The second All War combatants have been found,” Ansel said. “They are alive, and like the third group, they will be joining your war at the next assembly. My son, Prince Rorick, is one of the survivors.”
Knox glanced at Vale with dawning horror, and she figured Prince Rorick was just as evil as Ansel.
“I know what you’re planning,” Knox rushed out. “Do not do this. After everything I’ve won for you, I ask this, and only this. Do not—”
“You will kill every combatant in the war, excluding Rorick,” the ruthless Ansel interjected. “You will start with the girl, Vale of Terra. Kill her. Stop at nothing to get the deed done. Then, when all the others are dead, you will kneel and offer your heart to Prince Rorick.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
KILL HER. STOP AT NOTHING.
The command resounded inside Knox’s mind as the king’s image faded. Slave bands burning, blistering, he sprang to his feet.
Vale stood before him and backed away, her beautiful face pale, sickly. “Let’s talk about this, Knox.”
“Pick up your sword and behead me,” he commanded. He had to force the words past the overwhelming compulsion to end her life, hatred for Ansel seething inside him. Fury, too. Fury and frustration and pain. “Do not wait. Do it. Do it now.”
Kill the woman he loved? He would rather die. And so he would. He would die.
“No. I’m not going to hurt you, and you’re not going to hurt me.” She gave a violent shake of her head, long hair slapping at her cheeks. Tangled hair. Because she’d thrashed against the pillow only an hour ago, screaming with the pleasure he’d given her. “We’ll drain you and use Gunnar’s sword, just like you wanted. We’ll break the compulsion.”
The eyaer...wept. Because it knew the truth—he was dead either way.
“I’ll resist the process now,” he said. There was no other way. “Do it! Kill me,” he said, his hand unwittingly unsheathing Gunnar’s sword.
She stepped back, but she also unsheathed Celeste’s sword.
He closed the distance, but she made no move against him. Shaking, he gripped the hilt of his weapon so tightly his knuckles almost ripped through his skin.
Tears trickled down her cheeks, leaving little pink tracks. “Please, Knox. Fight this.”
“I’m trying, but...” Failing. Only a matter of minutes until he succumbed. “You must kill me. There’s no other way you’ll walk away from this.”
“Just...give me the Rifters. Or I’ll steal them from you. Then I’ll leave. We’ll stay away from each other until you’re able to use Gunnar’s sword on yourself.”
“Can’t bring myself to do it...will only hunt you down...run you to ground like an animal and take your head,” he choked out, his voice wet, thick. “Kill me before I kill you. Please.” Before he snuffed out her warmth and her light. Before he destroyed his sun. “Don’t let me do this to you, valina. I’m dead, anyway. You heard the king.”
“No. No! Don’t you see? I’m dead if I kill you. I can’t live knowing I took your life.”
Still, he stalked closer... “Vale. We’re running out of time...not sure how much longer I can resist.”
“Knox,” she breathed.
The moment he was within range, he swiped out his arm, unable to halt the action. No, no, no! Fear wrung a cry from deep in his soul—
She skidded back, the blade missing her throat by less than an inch. Relief flowed through him, but it faded as quickly as it had erupted. She might be able to hold him off for a little while, but in the end he would overpower her. He had too much experience, and with the shadows, she would never see him coming.
“Vale, please. I beseech you. Kill me.”
Backing away... The weapons that were scattered across the floor tripped her, and she stumbled, fell, landing beside the chains he’d once considered using to bind her. As she leaped to her feet, he felt his body lunge, his arm slashing through the air.
Memories guided her, as they’d done at the assembly. She rolled out of the way, and he’d never been so grateful that another warrior had the skills needed to evade and use against him.
“Because of you, I had a good life, Vale. I have no regrets. Not anymore. Kill me and win the war. Help me see my Minka again. Send me to her. Save your realm. Save your sister.”
More tears. A sob. “Stop!” she shouted. “Just stop.”
“What if Ansel tells me to kill Nola next? What then? Save her!”
“I—I can’t. I love you.”
“It’s almost too late, Vale. Please.”
And then it was too late. Knox pursued Vale through the bunker, over furniture, again and again their weapons clanging together as he thrust and she parried.
Sweat dampened his skin, his muscles shaking from exertion as he tried, tried so hard, to oppose Ansel’s command.
“Don’t let the king win,” she pleaded. “Fight him.”
“Want to so bad.” Even when Vale’s sweet, luscious pheromone electrified his senses, rousing his desires, the compulsion remained unshaken. He twisted, struck at her. “Can’t.”
She dodged, but not quickly enough. The tip of his blade sliced her shoulder. With a yelp, she dropped her sword. He twisted again, struck again, and she dove backward, rolling to her feet with his bow in hand, The Bloodthirsty aimed at his chest.
A crimson river poured down her arm, and the sight destroyed him.
“The arrow won’t chase me.” He stalked around her. She followed his motions, never dropping her position. “For you, the arrow is simply an arrow. It won’t even slow me. You should have picked up the revolver.” She could use it, if there were bullets in the chamber. She just couldn’t reload it. “A shot between the eyes will buy you a little time.” Listen! Heed my words. Slow me!
“Focus on me. On our love, on our relationship and our future. Focus on what can be, if only we survive this.” Tears pouring down her cheeks. Her arms began to shake.
Hot tears poured down his cheeks. Can’t do this. Can’t hurt her.
His slave bands said, You must.
The eyaer disagreed. {Her death heralds your own. Save her, and you will save
yourself.}
Vale did nothing as he kicked the bow out of her hands. Did nothing as he backed her up against a wall.
“Why aren’t you fighting me?” he shouted.
“You showed me how much you love me,” she shouted back. “Now I’m showing you the same.”
Inside his head raged the bloodiest war of his life. He loved this woman. How could he harm her? She meant more to him than anything else in this world. More than victory. More than vengeance. More than freedom. More than a vow or a compulsion. How could he harm her?
Then. That moment. He found the strength to step back. He was panting, his nerve endings razed. “This is your chance. If you love me, you’ll take me out before my control cracks.” Any second... He picked up her sword, tossed the weapon in her direction hilt-first.
She caught it.
As she neared him, he said, “Hurry.”
When she lunged at him, she twirled her weapon so that she gripped the hilt and the blade faced away from him. She planned to knock him out. The slave bands sizzled, his body moving of its own volition to block the blow.
His heart thudded against his ribs as—No! Compulsion forced him to swipe up two daggers, no longer a matching set since he’d left one at the jewelry store—Vale...priceless. He swung, aiming for her throat.
Clink. When she blocked, he moved automatically, swinging his other arm. She realized his intent a little too late. Though she kicked, her strength was no match for his, and the second dagger sank deep in her chest.
An agonized gasp split her lips. Horror nearly felled him as he ripped out the weapon, taking bits of bone and heart with him. Blood gurgled from the corners of her mouth.
No! Hate Ansel. Hate myself! Grunting from exertion, he tried to stop his next actions but...again, he swung his arms. Target: her neck. This time, the daggers would act as scissors, cutting through flesh, muscle and bone. She would die.
Stop! Don’t do this!
Shadow and Ice (Gods of War) Page 39
