“Wila ... fight ...” Azren’s voice was in my head.
Azren.
Balen’s talons dug into my waist and a raw scream tore from my throat.
Argh!
Azren’s answering cry echoed in my head.
No. No, Wila. Fight.
“Sooo soft.” Balen ripped me open.
White lightning flashed before my eyes, and then darkness claimed me.
“Wake!”
My head lolled with each slap, teeth rattling. Dark spots danced before my eyes, pain laced through my head, and then my stomach was on fire. My scream was a hoarse cry.
“Fight,” Balen urged, his voice a pant. “Fight me.”
Fight, Azren had said. I needed to stay conscious. Pushing down the urge to puke and scream, I raised my head. My vision blurred and swam, his face coming in and out of focus.
“Take off the shackles, you fucker, and then let’s go a round.”
He threw back his head and laughed. His hand went down to his crotch and he massaged himself. “Fuck first.”
My stomach turned over. “Fight me, you bastard. Unless you’re scared you won’t win?”
His eyes flared and his awful mouth opened in a malevolent grin, all teeth and tongue. “Fight first, then fuck.” He rushed toward me, fingers fumbling at my wrists. His demon body pushed up against me, too close and rancid, and the shackles clanked to the ground.
It took a moment for it to register that I was free, and then my knees gave way and I hit the ground. A liquid inferno raced across my abdomen, and my hands came away sticky with blood. He’d torn me. How was I not dead?
I’m giving you my endurance, my strength ...
Gilbert.
I was alive because of Gilbert.
“Strong neph. Dirty mouth.” Balen kicked me in the stomach.
The breath whooshed out of me. Lungs shattering, burning, throat throbbing with the need to scream.
I’m with you. I—
His voice cut off as if a door had slammed between us. Was he real or just a figment of my traumatized mind. Didn’t matter. I had to fight.
Balen’s hand tangled in my hair and jerked my head back so far my eyes popped open, and fear clamped its fist around my heart. My spine strained, my neck cracked. He was going to break me.
No. Not today.
Focus. Think.
He was no longer non-corporeal, and his package was almost in my face. I slammed the heel of my hand into it. He released me with a grunt. I rolled away with his laughter echoing in my ears and scrambled to my feet, hugging my wounded stomach. The air shifted, and I whirled to counter his attack with a hard pivot kick. It caught him in the chest, sending him stumbling back once more, but he was strong. I’d lost a lot of blood, and the world was hazy. Nausea rocked me, but I ducked in time to avoid the swipe of his talons.
He was playing with me.
If he wanted, he could crush me, but he was having fun. It was in the crazy glow of his eyes and the gaping maw of his mouth. He licked his lips with his impossibly long tongue.
Azren wasn’t like this. He wasn’t a hideous monster, but this was a different breed. One Elora had cultivated to crave sadistic pleasure, to hurt and maim and kill. There would be no escape, only delaying the inevitable. But I’d fight until there wasn’t any breath left in my body. The fucker wasn’t getting his claws into me without an effort. Crimson rage bloomed and burst outward, my vision was clouded in red, and my limbs were suddenly overflowing with power. I turned to face him, knees bent, arms up in a defensive stance. No questioning the boost, just time to use it.
He cocked his head, and then he rushed me.
The next few minutes were a blur of evade and hit and duck and run, and at first my body wasn’t my own, moving on instinct the likes of which I’d never experienced. But the boost was flagging. His laughter echoed around the stone chamber, and then my knees hit the ground. I was a mass of torn and bloody pain. My face was slick from the nicks he’d inflicted with his claws, like a cat batting a chew toy.
His shadow fell over me. “Now, we fuck.”
He made a grab for me, and I fell back, kicking out to ward him off, knowing it was futile. Knowing there was no way out of this. His body settled over mine, pinning me. Hot, sour breath beat against my face.
“Eat you. Fuck you and eat you.”
His hands gripped the waistband of my trousers and terror was a visceral animal, clawing and kicking, bucking and fighting because, no—just no. Hot tears of impotence leaked from my eyes and then his teeth found my neck and there was nothing but bone-searing pain and a scream that scraped my throat raw. My fingers were on fire as needles pierced the tips. He pulled back, mouth a crimson wound, and stared at my hands pinned either side of me.
He lifted one of my arms, glaring at my hand. “Like mine,” he said musingly.
Talons sat on the ends of my fingers in place of neat, blunt nails. How?
“Bastard,” Balen hissed. “Dirty rogue Shedim. Fucking dirty blood.” He squeezed my hand and the talons elongated, sending fire racing through my fingers. My skin rippled, gold and rough, like ... scales? No ...
He gripped my throat and squeezed, crushing my windpipe. No air. There was no ...
“Dirty, so dirty.” He ground his groin into me, dipped his head, and began lapping at the wound on my neck, hips jerking against me in excitement.
The world began to fade away. Over ... it was over and then he tensed and grew slack against me. His body was a dead weight, head buried in the crook of my neck.
“Wila. Oh, fucking hell, Wila!”
Valance?
Balen was yanked off me and freedom stared me in the face, but there was no power left in my limbs to move.
Valance reached for me, and my arm shot out as if of its own volition. My hand grabbed his arm with my fresh talons and my skin shimmered gold again, but this time it spread, slipping onto his forearm and sinking in. Valance gasped, his face rippling with silver scales. For a moment, he merely stared at me in wonder as if looking into a startling abyss, and then I was hauled up into his arms and cradled against his powerful, lithe frame.
“We have to go,” he said. “We have to—Oh, God. How the fuck ...” He began to run.
The world rushed by, gray and dark and musty. My fingers flexed against his shirt, wanting to grab on but not having the strength.
But there was someone else we needed to find. “Az ... ren ... help...”
“It’s okay, Noir has him. Elora told me she’d sent you back. The bitch. The fucking bitch, she almost killed you.”
“She knows ... lie. She knows.”
His arms tensed, but he didn’t stop moving. “It doesn’t matter. We need to get you out of here. You’re bleeding out.”
Dead ... Was I dying?
“No, you’re not going to die. I won’t let you. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”
Had I spoken?
Fresh, cold air stung my face.
“Wila, listen. I can’t risk atomic transport when you’re this wounded. It could make things worse. We’re going to have to fly. I need to put you down, and then I’m going to shift. Don’t be frightened.”
He laid me down on the cold, scratchy ground. The sky above was a welcome blanket. The moon ... it was so bright, so large and close. But wait, it was getting darker. Farther away.
“Stay with me.” Valance’s voice was a deep growl scraping over my senses.
“Still here ...”
A gust of air blew over me—icy cold, numbing my skin. Cold ... so cold. What was the shadow? The huge dark shadow with electric-blue eyes and wings that blocked out the moon.
“Oh, God. Please don’t let her die. I can’t lose her, not now that I’ve found her. Don’t die.”
“Don’t want ... die ... better get a move on.”
Surprise tickled the back of my mind and then scales scraped against my skin. Claws scratched earth and I was rising, limp and useless, but cradled in Valance’s huge cl
aws. His wings beat the air and we were rising.
My eyes fluttered closed as my throat throbbed, slow and sluggish. Bleeding. Needed to stop bleeding. Ha, now that would be a trick. Where my platelets at? Coagulate, dammit.
Please do not go insane.
Did dragons speak? Could they speak with those jaws? Did they even have lips to form the words?
Chill seeped into my bones at every point that the air touched it. My abdomen was shielded by Valance’s claws. Dragon form. I wanted to see, but my neck wouldn’t obey my command. It remained floppy, and my eyelids were glued shut.
Dammit! Mother’s sentries. Evasive fucking maneuvers.
We dipped and dove.
Fuck you, fuckers. Here comes the finish line.
The world went black.
14
“—almost healed.” Noir’s voice, confused.
“How?” Valance demanded. “I saw the wounds; they were ... they couldn’t have healed that fast.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Azren’s voice was hoarse. “She survived. She survived Balen.” A calloused hand soothed my brow, and then dry lips brushed my cheek.
“This makes no sense?” Valance’s tone was thick with emotion. “How can she be—”
“I don’t know, but we have to protect her.”
I swallowed to moisten my mouth. “I can protect myself. Should have taken K.”
Noir let out a bark of laughter. “And she awakens.”
I groaned. “She ruined my beautiful dustkicker.” Tears leaked from my eyes, but they were tears born from shock, anger, and relief. Alive—I was alive.
“I’ll get you another,” Noir said. “I’ll get you two.”
I peeled my lids back and the room came into focus. Pink and white and fluffy with three huge guys gathered around my bed. It was the beginning of a bad joke, and if I hadn’t felt like I’d been put through a grinder, I’d have probably come up with an apt punchline, but my stunning wit was on a mini hiatus because my body felt as if someone had gone at it with a steak tenderizer.
My gaze traveled from Noir’s lean, concerned face to Valance’s flushed, windblown one to Azren’s battle-scarred, jaw-ticking one.
“Is the wicked witch of the east dead?” My voice was an unflattering croak.
“Water,” Azren demanded. He cupped the back of my neck and lifted me gently.
A glass was pressed to my lips and cool water trickled down my throat. I winced. It hurt to swallow.
“There’s still a lot of healing to be done,” Noir said. “Internal injuries. I can help a little if you’ll permit me.”
Why was he looking at Azren?
Azren nodded, then looked down at me. “Will that be all right?”
“Sure.”
Azren eased me back down onto the pillow, then slipped his hand into mine before slipping off the mattress and kneeling by the side of my bed.
Noir took the spot Azren had vacated, perching on the edge of the mattress. “This may feel strange, Wila. If it hurts, tell me and I’ll stop.”
“It can’t be ... worse than ... already.” Oh, fuck. It hurt to talk. That fucker, Balen. My gaze traveled to Valance. “He dead?”
Valance’s nostrils flared. “Very. I destroyed the contract too. She can’t come for you.”
I closed my eyes, allowing myself a moment to revel in that knowledge, ignoring the burn at the back of my nose. When I opened them, the guys were watching me tensely.
“Do it.”
Noir held his hands a couple of inches above my body and closed his eyes. A thousand fire ants began to feast on my flesh. I bit back a scream, arching up toward his fingers.
“Stop,” Azren ordered. “You’re hurting her.”
“No.” I squeezed Azren’s hand. “Finish it!”
Azren growled and the fire intensified until the scream erupted from me in a screech. The fire winked out, and my body dropped back onto the mattress. My clothes clung to me with perspiration, because heck, ladies don’t sweat.
Well, hello there, wit. You ready to come home?
“Wila? Wila, can you hear me?” Noir asked.
“Yeah. I feel ... better.”
Azren’s grip on my hand loosened a fraction and pleasant warmth seeped into my bones.
“She needs to rest,” Noir said.
“We need to understand how this—”
“Not now,” Azren snapped, cutting off Valance.
He was snapping at the prince? Dammit. Why had I closed my eyes?
Valance wasn’t having any of it, though. “You don’t own her, she’s my—”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“And you can’t discount it. I know what I felt.”
Azren sighed. “Later.”
“Azren, I don’t have the ...”
Don’t have what? What would happen ... Oh. Hello, sleep.
Sleep was a rolling sea that held me captive, tugging me under after each wave. Consciousness remained just outside of my grasp, but the world seeped into the soothing depths of slumber in dribs and drabs: the caress of a calloused finger on my cheek, the brush of lips on my forehead, and the clasp of cool fingers on my hand.
“We’re going to keep you safe,” Noir said. “She won’t get to you.”
Who? Who was going to get me?
The snap of Balen’s teeth followed by terror’s icy grip.
“Okay, you’re safe.” Tay’s delicious rumble. “I’ll kill her. I’ll kill her for you with my bare hands.”
Back under, back into the depths until the next rise.
“You’re going to be okay, kid,” Trevor said. “You’re a fighter, and you’re going to be fine.” A sniff. “Dammit, Wila. We almost lost you.” A wet nose nudged my face. “What would we do without you ...”
Darkness dragged me under.
Cool fingers traced my brow and trailed down my cheek.
“Mmm.” It felt good. Nice. But sleep still had a claim on my body, holding it under the surface, keeping me a prisoner, allowing me to simply peek through a hazy veil. Long fingers twined with mine, and a delicious prickle ran over the skin of my forearm. A soft gasp was followed by an ironic laugh.
“I have to go,” Valance said softly.
I frowned. “No.”
His thumb brushed my bottom lip. The fingers of the hand he was holding tingled. I needed to wake up properly, needed to see. This was important.
“Pink, who would have thought,” he said musingly. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret ... it’s always been my favorite of all the colors—the color of dawn, of twilight, and the color of your cheeks when you’re overcome with arousal. But I see why you hide it. I see why you don the persona. I understand, because we’re the same, you and me. I felt it the first time we met. I wish I could stay to explore this further.”
His breath brushed my cheek, and I struggled to peel back my lids, to break from the sleep paralysis and look into his dazzling irises. I needed to watch his dragon pupils dilate and see myself reflected in the inky darkness.
His sigh was a protest. “All this time, I thought I was broken. All this time, I thought I was insane. The truth shall set you free, they say, but not for me. Never me. The truth is my shackle, and now I have to go, but I want you to know that I’m honored that it’s you, and I wish ... I wish that it didn’t have to be this way.”
My pulse fluttered in agitation. Go? No. He couldn’t go. He had to stay because ... because a door had opened up inside me, a door for him to step through. He needed to stay. I needed him to stay.
“Don’t come after me. Survive for the both of us,” he said.
“Please.” My eyes snapped open to inky darkness.
“It’s all right.” Azren’s breath tickled my ear.
The world slowly bled into focus, my back to his chest, and his arms around my waist holding me loosely, carefully.
“I’m here. Sleep.”
No. I needed to wake up. Valance ... There was something I had to do and it
was related to ... My mind churned, trying to grasp the important action that was slipping away, but my body had other ideas. It relaxed against Azren and dove back into the sea of slumber.
“It’s good to see some color in your cheeks,” Gilbert said, setting a tea tray on my bedside table.
I ran a hand over my face. “How long have I been asleep? Where is everyone? What time is it?”
He chuckled. “Almost seventy-two hours. But Noir said that was normal for healing. They’ve all been here, taking it in turns to sit with you. Tay, Noir, Valance, and, of course, Azren, although I get the impression he would rather have monitored you on his own. Tay and Noir left an hour ago; they both had business to attend to, but they said they’d be back. I’m not sure about Valance. He was just gone, and I only just managed to convince Azren to go eat something. Oh, and it’s almost six p.m.”
I pressed a hand to my temple. They’d all been here. They’d stayed with me. Seventy-two hours. Shit. It felt like yesterday. Balen’s face, his ghastly face and rotten breath ... A fist clamped itself around my lungs, making it difficult to breathe for a moment.
“Wila?” Gilbert’s phantom hands brushed my face. “It’s all right. It’s over. You’re safe.”
I was home. I was fucking home. The fist eased up, and my breathing evened out. “I’m okay.”
I didn’t need to see his face to imagine the concern etched into it. He poured me some tea but didn’t hand it to me. “How’s the pain?”
I glanced down at my abdomen and carefully lifted my T-shirt to examine the pale, scarred flesh beneath. Long lines ran across the whole of my stomach, raised in angry red and white welts.
“It will heal fully,” Gilbert said. “Noir said it will take time. The wounds were deep.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “You seemed to have healed some of it yourself, but the rest Noir helped with.”
I’d healed myself—another change to my body, another strange occurrence. I covered up the scars and squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out the terrifying image of Balen’s face flaring to life in my mind again. “I couldn’t fight him, Gil. He was too strong. I ... I’ve never felt that helpless before. No K, no daggers, nothing.”
City of the Lost (Chronicles of Arcana Book 2) Page 15
