by Jo Carlisle
The demon appeared in the middle of the battle and took in what was happening in a blink. With a powerful blast of fire, he took out two of the wolves that were about to skewer Luc, while Luc took the third.
“Get some help!” Luc yelled desperately to his friend. “Anybody! Whoever you can find, or we’re going to die!”
“Hold on—I’ll be back!”
With that promise, Legion disappeared.
As more wolves closed in, Luc prayed reinforcements would come. And that they would be enough to save his brothers and their friends. Desperate, not realizing what he was about to set in motion, he whispered a fateful entreaty to the gods.
“Please, help us. Don’t let our fight end like this.”
On a cold, barren mountaintop, Aisa heard his plea. And readied her shears.
Legion appeared in the Valkyries’ palace, in Serena’s bedchamber in the middle of the night. With a flick of his hand, he magically turned on the lights, then yelled at her.
“Serena, get up! Get up!”
Kass’s sister bolted upright in bed with a frightened gasp and stared at him wide eyed. “What in blazing Hades are you doing in my room?”
“Listen to me,” he ordered in a tone that brooked no argument. “If you know where Kass is, get her here now. Right fucking now, because Luc and his brothers are in trouble. Her mate is going to die if you waste one second arguing with me.”
But still, she took at least a couple of seconds to process the urgency of his words before nodding. “She’s in Valhalla, with Odin. I’ll get her.”
Legion couldn’t set foot in the place where a god resided; the barrier literally wouldn’t let in a demon. He had to wait as Serena disappeared. His mind raced, frantic as he was with the need to get back and protect Luc. But he wasn’t the only one Legion cared about who was in danger.
Valafar.
Oh gods. Protect him, even though he’s forsaken me.
There was a shift in the room’s atmosphere, and Kass appeared with her sister. Kass ran over to him, already in full battle dress. “What’s happening to Luc? Tell me!”
“I’m not sure why, but your mate and his brothers are in a battle with werewolves, and they’re losing. Valafar and some of his warriors are there fighting with them, but there’re too many wolves for them to overcome.”
Kass looked away from him, frightened, but thinking. “We’re going to need more help. I’ll go get Odin and his soldiers while you and Serena round up the rest of my sisters. I’ll be back.”
Legion nodded, and Serena said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good rumble. Let’s kick some ass.”
He just hoped they were in time—for all of their sakes.
Odin seemed to be waiting. Kass wasn’t surprised.
“It’s time,” she said, swallowing her fear. “Luc and his brothers need us. Valafar’s demons are aiding them against the werewolves.”
“I heard your mate call out to the gods for help,” Odin said, nodding. “They are good, worthy men, and we will answer. I’ll gather the soldiers and meet you in front of your palace. Legion will take us to the battle.”
“Thank you.” She gave the god a quick hug, which he briefly returned.
“You’re a brave warrior, Kass. You never fail to put others above yourself, and you will be rewarded. Believe this.”
He disappeared, and she quickly transported herself back to her palace to await Odin and his men.
Time was almost up.
Hang on, my love. I’m coming.
Luc’s sword arm felt like lead.
Never in all his centuries had he faced odds this bad in a fight. If he hadn’t trained with Taryn and Kass’s other guards, he’d be dead already. He’d grown soft and complacent in modern life.
If he survived this, he’s stay in top shape from now on.
But survival didn’t seem likely.
Then he saw Aldric fall and was galvanized into motion again. “Nooo!”
He slashed like a madman, trying to get to his brother’s side. Aldric was their rock. He had to be all right.
But he had too many wolves in his way, and not enough strength left to defeat them all. Still, he kept trying, swiping and stabbing at everything he could. Hearts and heads, stab and thrust. He kept up the litany as he swung.
And then, over the trees, a brilliant light emblazoned the entire night sky with a yellow-orange halo. Many of the combatants were caught in the berserker rage of the fighting and didn’t pause, but many more did. Luc, mesmerized by the phenomenon, did a double take, wondering what on earth it could be.
Legion reappeared suddenly, throwing himself into the fight. Luc saw, noted it, and dispatched another wolf, which took his attention from the strange, amazing light for a few seconds. When he looked at the glow again, six Valkyrie warriors stepped out of it and ran right onto the field, yelling battle cries, swords drawn.
And behind them were Odin and his soldiers, in all their glory. It was the most awe-inspiring spectacle he’d ever witnessed.
Which was why he didn’t see the wolf until it was too late.
Seeing movement from the corner of his eye, he spun to face his attacker—and the snarling beast thrust the blade of the sword in its fist straight into the center of Luc’s chest, driving it all the way to the hilt.
“Uughn.” His breath left him in a soft exhalation, and his knees buckled.
The shock of the agony, of seeing the hilt protruding from his own chest, was surreal. He slumped to the ground, half on his back, half on his side, taking in the battle around him with shrinking vision.
It really was an awesome sight, the very gods coming down from on high to fight the monsters. What would Legion have to say about that?
There was his Kass, too, fighting like the goddess Taryn liked to call her, and no wonder that he did. She saw Luc at that moment and screamed, a blood-curdling sound of grief that made several of the enemy distracted, for which they paid dearly.
Maybe he was hearing things. He thought he heard Kass scream at Odin, “You promised! It was supposed to be me!”
What did she mean?
But he was so tired. He struggled to breathe as she fought to his side, beheading one wolf after another. Blood bubbled up into his throat, and he coughed, trying to clear it, but the crimson liquid kept coming. Kass.
As if she’d heard him, she turned and came toward him, apparently thinking her way to him was at last clear. Or maybe not thinking at all and simply acting out of desperation. Luc saw the wolf behind her before she did and frantically tried to warn her.
“No! Behind…” He choked again, unable to finish.
Kass’s whole body jerked, and she staggered to a halt, eyes wide, silently beseeching him as a blade, driven through her back, burst through her chest and clear through her heart.
He knew, because he felt the agony the instant their bond was severed.
The second she fell to the ground, dead.
“No. Oh gods…” Rolling to his stomach, ignoring the scorching fire in his chest and back, he half crawled, half dragged himself over the ground, desperate to reach her. To hold her, though she was already gone. “No. B-baby.”
He couldn’t make it to her. His mate. Several feet short of her body, he slumped to the ground. Stillness, suddenly. All around. Then, weeping. Whose?
Not his; he had no breath. No tears.
No soul.
Hands grabbed Luc’s shoulders, then turned him as far onto his back as possible with the sword in the way, pinning him like a butterfly to a corkboard. His sight was dimming, but he managed to make out Aldric holding him in his lap, tears streaming down his face.
Safe, then. And Soren? Legion? Val?
Their streaked faces, too, floated above Luc. Both of his brothers and his friends, bloodied but alive.
“Hold on, little brother,” Aldric begged. “You’re going to be okay. You’re a vampire—you’ll heal from this.”
“Luc, we’re going to pull the sword
out,” Soren said grimly. “There’s no other way. It’s going to hurt like fuck, but we have to do it so you can take blood. Then we’ll get you to the hospital.”
“M-mate,” he gurgled, trying to make them understand. “Dead.”
He’d never heal. Not from her loss, or how it had happened—she’d died trying to save his life. There was no coming back from that.
Legion stroked his hair, his expression wretched. “I know, and I’m so sorry. But you must hang on. Live.”
“No.” He begged Aldric. The one with the strength to do what Luc needed. “Finish me. Take my head…please.”
“You ask the impossible, little brother,” Aldric told him, his eyes miserable and sad. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t. You will live, and we’ll be there for you.”
But he couldn’t. There was no life anymore. Not when Kass was dead.
His family and friends were okay, and they’d be fine long after he was gone. He could let go now.
So, despite their pleas, he did.
And sank into complete, absolute darkness.
There was pain. All-encompassing and absolute.
It reached through time and space to keep him trapped in razor-sharp talons, no matter how he fought to escape it. But he kept the darkness drawn around him like a cloak of black velvet.
The passing of a day, a week, a millennium, meant nothing in this murky place of distorted dreams. What was this place? Yes, this must be where broken souls went when neither the gods nor Satan would have them.
Pain, loss, suffering. All gone. Not like on the surface.
Up there waited the stench of death. Blood everywhere. On himself, on the female he loved. On the men and women in splattered white coats and green scrubs who worked feverishly over his inert body while his spirit watched from above and struggled for release, trying to break the thread that Aisa inexplicably refused to cut. Time and time again they pulled him back into that wrecked shell, and he resisted, crushed and suffocating with every ragged breath.
Finally, too weak to fight them any longer, he’d let go and had fallen into a place where he didn’t have to remember a certain hellish nightmare scratching at the fringes of his mind, or even be a part of it. He burrowed deeper, deeper, into the darkness where he might’ve stayed forever…until tiny fingers of light began to penetrate the gloom, seeking his private sanctuary. Not understanding, he hid from them, or tried, but eventually they found him anyway.
Luc, come back to us. We love you.
It’s going to be all right. We’re here for you.
We miss you. Open your eyes, brother.
The voices floated in nothingness, the words meaningless, sliding through his grasp like grains of sand. He didn’t want to hold on to them, but he couldn’t remember anymore why he was staying away. The voices were tender, filled with love, and he listened to their comforting rhythm. Sometimes they would recede for endless stretches of time, and his dark corner became a cold, black shroud. So he began to reach for them.
Luc, can you hear me?
Wake up, pretty boy, so we can play.
By slow degrees the blackness began to fade, and he surrendered himself to whatever the Fates had in store. The voices, more distinct and familiar now, called to him constantly. He began to respond, the choice no longer his to make. Maybe it never was.
Once, when the darkness receded, white light shone into his eyes, exploding in his brain. The agony was not to be believed. He moaned, or thought he did, and found himself choking as he gagged on something lodged in his throat.
Can’t breathe. Hurts, hurts…
There were urgent murmurs, hands holding him down. Others pulled at the thing lodged in his throat, and he panicked. Fought them.
“Easy, Lord Fontaine,” a competent voice soothed. “You’re in the Southern Coalition Hospital. You’re going to be all right. The tube is out. Just breathe nice and slow.”
Hospital. Why? There were more comforting words, soothing fingers on his brow, and the pain disappeared if only for a little while. He sank down again, but not in the shadow-world of before. He slept, a deep and healing sleep, but it was not dreamless. The snatches of dreams were darkly disturbing, and he’d toss restlessly until familiar voices soothed him again.
When he awakened once, sometime later, he became aware of soft sheets against his skin. He heard a rustle of paper and quiet murmurs of people talking—about him, he could tell.
“Do you think he remembers?”
“Not yet. He’s too calm.”
“When he comes around, should we request sedatives?”
“Not unless it’s totally necessary. We’ll see when he wakes up.”
The first speaker’s name came to him, and then the second: Soren and Aldric. These were his brothers, whom he loved. Even through the fog he could recall that now, and it gave him comfort, so he slept.
When he surfaced again, someone was holding his hand. It was a female’s touch, light and welcome. The kiss on his cheek was welcome, too. “Wake up, sweetie. Open your eyes so your overprotective brothers and that demon watchdog of yours will stop pacing the floor every day. We can tell you’re in there, getting better.”
He frowned inside because, while the female’s voice was pleasant and familiar, it was not the one he wanted to hear. It didn’t call to him like…He couldn’t remember.
Harley. The female sitting with him was Soren’s mate. Mate.
Something in him recoiled from the term, but he couldn’t think why. He loved Harley like a sister.
After her visit, they seemed to be able to tell whenever he surfaced. Perhaps he made small movements or sounds; he didn’t know. But their entreaties for him to open his eyes never let up and became hard to ignore. Finally, for the first time, he strained to obey, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. It seemed to be encased in cement, and his lids wouldn’t budge. Exhaustion thwarted his efforts again and again, but he refused to give up. Some basic emotion he couldn’t name kept driving him on.
Eventually, he was bound to succeed. Late one evening—he could tell by the absence of the daytime sounds and by the darkness in the room—he awakened. He stirred some, shifting around in bed.
And simply opened his eyes.
That he was flat on his back in bed wasn’t hard to figure out. Little else made sense. A dim light glowed somewhere near his head, but he couldn’t find the source. The effect was like looking at a single oncoming headlight at night through heavy fog. He couldn’t see anything else at all. He blinked once, twice, but the film over his eyes wouldn’t clear. Reality hit and alarm shot through him.
Gods, I’m blind!
He knew his name, and his brothers’. Harley. Jordy. But nothing else. Shouldn’t there be something? There was a huge hole where the rest of his life should be. He was in the Coalition’s special hospital for paranormals. He remembered a doctor saying that. So, something terrible must have happened.
Something so horrible, his brain was shutting it out. Something unspeakable.
The flash of a blade caught in his mind’s eye, silver sinking through flesh. Screams and blood. His screams. Loss. He’d lost something. Someone? “Nooo!”
Luc’s howl of fear echoed off the walls, and activity erupted around him.
“Oh saints! He’s awake,” Harley called. “Soren, get Aldric and the doctors!”
Suddenly people were all around him, acting quickly to calm him. They were shining that damned light in his eyes and asking endless questions he couldn’t answer because of the awful pressure in his head. He didn’t want to remember.
“Let’s go,” he heard the doctor order. “I want some tests done, stat.”
Then he was whisked out of the room, his bed rolling. He flew down one corridor after another, the sensation making him sick to his stomach. It was a relief when his bed was parked.
They did tests, one after another, his body encased in that plastic tube that took pictures. He couldn’t remember what it was called. And the doctors whispered among t
hemselves quietly, forgetting that with his vampire hearing, he could make out what they were saying anyway.
They speculated endlessly.
“Is he blind? His pupils are not responsive, yet he suffered no head trauma.”
“Brain damage?”
“None.”
“Then what the fuck is wrong with him? Why doesn’t he respond?”
“Got no gods-damned clue.”
And then someone said in sympathy, “I heard he lost his mate in that big battle with the wolves outside the city. She was murdered right in front of him.”
“Oh yeah, I saw that story on the news. Shit, that’s rough.”
Mate? What mate?
The images began like quick snapshots. Werewolves. A great battle. Swords. Blood. Valkyries descending from the heavens, aided by a god.
One beautiful Valkyrie in particular, slashing her way to his side.
And the floodgates opened. His mind shattered with grief and despair, and he screamed, nearly tearing the tube apart in his desperation to get out. But he was trapped, and hands held him down while a needle slid into his arm.
“Noo,” he sobbed brokenly. “No.”
“You idiots! He heard every word you guys said!”
The drug eased him into oblivion until his fractured mind couldn’t form her name or recall why it hovered on his lips.
As he sank into the arms of sleep, he thought he felt sweet arms come around him and hold him close. Comforting him, letting him know everything would be all right, reminding him.
Mate. Love.
Sleep, Luc. All will be well, you’ll see.
So he did. But only for the one who held his heart.
13
“I need to see Luc.” Kass’s demand echoed loudly in Odin’s office. The god looked up from a stack of papers on his desk, his face impassive as ever. Frankly, it was damned infuriating, his steadfast calm in the face of her anger.
Of her despair.
“You know that’s not possible right now, Kass. We’re due on Olympus within the hour, and I need you to remain focused on presenting yourself with strong assuredness and answering their questions honestly.”
