Secrets of the Sky: Book Two of the Immortals in Alameda Series

by Jaye Shields

  The guards also fired at Rowen, but he wasn’t worried. He was immortal, and they were not. Normally, he’d not use his gun within such an unfair fight, but Sparrow’s well-being was at stake. With her life on the line, he’d let himself become a beast to save her.

  All three guards lay on the ground as Rowen rushed down the hall toward the stairwell. More men heard the commotion of the gunfire and ran toward him. Rowen reached back to fire at them, and took another bullet in the back. But his opponents fell as well, and satisfaction came readily. Just get to Sparrow.

  He’d been so far behind the caravan, he could only pray that she had gotten free, and that his mission was moot.

  As he reached the second floor of the fortress, he found the prisoner’s keep. Rows of cells stretched down the long, dark hallway. Black stone was smeared with blood, both fresh and old. The hot metallic scent was unavoidable, and filled the air with a smoky quality. Dragon demon blood.

  “Gnighblie!” The guards spotted Rowen from down the dark hallway. They rushed toward him. Obviously they haven’t heard that I’m armed. Without hesitating, Rowen pulled out his gun and fired three shots at the approaching men.

  A scream erupted from the cell next to Rowen. As the soldiers fell dead in their tracks, Rowen looked to his left. A small green-skinned Quetzalem was huddled in a dark corner of his cell. IVs were hooked up to various spots on the young dragon demon and fear left a shiny glaze to the Quetzalem’s quivering gaze.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Rowen whispered to the young creature alone in the cell. Rowen watched the tiny youth nod slowly, and it haunted him. He’d known about the genocide and enslavement of the Quetzalem, but fighting the dragon demon war wasn’t exactly his jurisdiction. Still, seeing the young blood slave was only fuel for Rowen’s fury.

  “Did you see a light-haired female come through here?” He asked gently in the language of the Quetzalem, but only received a negative shake of the head. “Did you see a bird?” Another no.

  More guards arrived in a hurry up the stairwell. They fired three shots. Not sure if the barred cells were mystically sealed, Rowen made sure he took all three bullets himself to protect the youth. Only a dim pain burned within his chest. He could only hope that his body would stay strong enough to get Sparrow out before he began to weaken from all the holes.

  The men rushed toward him with satisfied grins, but Rowen silenced them with astral bullets. The dead weight of the guards collapsed to the ground. The cosmic gun was the knights’ exclusive weapon because they contained a never-ending supply of ammunition. Perfect for suicide missions.

  Running down the hall, Rowen realized that the fortress was a maze of slave cells and torture rooms. The good news was, there was no sign of Sparrow. Thank the gods, because the torture rooms he had seen were filled with gore. If Sparrow ever had to even see something like that, he would gouge out the eyes of whoever showed it to her.

  Rowen paused to question another blood slave when a non-human guard came out of nowhere. A meaty fist connected with the side of Rowen’s face, but he wasted no time sending a couple astral bullets into the beast’s gut. The demon would need to be beheaded. Rowen had throwing stars on his person, but no sword strong enough to decapitate through the thick skin.

  Evading more punches, Rowen glanced around for an adequate weapon. The demon took advantage of Rowen’s momentary distraction and leapt onto his back. A human would have been crushed to the ground underneath the three hundred pound creature, but Rowen used the momentum to throw the beast over his head.

  The floor shook on impact, and Rowen took off down the hall to search for a weapon to finish him off.

  “Knight!”

  Rowen halted in his tracks at the familiar, desperate voice. Pyrrhus.

  Running back toward the voice, he found another hall, and turned to find the Quetzalem strapped to a wall. Pyrrhus was covered head to toe in blood, and several torture instruments were still stuck into his hard blue skin.

  “Where is Sparrow?” Rowen roared and began pulling out one of the blades lodged into the Quetzalem’s stomach.

  “They have her.”

  “Where?”

  The dragon demon muttered something but was close to unconsciousness. “Where, damn you?”

  “A hunter has her. Agmundr.” Rowen moved to leave but heard the break in the Quetzalem’s voice and halted. “I stopped hearing her scream.”

  Rowen became enraged at the words and drove the blade into Pyrrhus once more. “They wanted you!” His scream echoed down the dark hall. “You better pray she is okay, dragon demon.”

  Rowen took off. He didn’t care if the mega-ton demon followed him. He had to find Sparrow.

  • • •

  Sparrow awoke to cold metal pressed against her cheek. Pain tingled all throughout her body, but sharp stabbing prodded the skin on her back. Prying open her lids, she decided to embrace the nightmare.

  “You. I gotta say, déjà vu.” The cold metal under her was an examination table, and her shirt was pushed up to her shoulders. No pillow, just mirrors and a tray full of pointy steel instruments.

  “I thought you would wake if I commenced our session. I see you are already prepared to share information. Who is this Déjà vu? And what realm is he from?”

  “Oh, don’t get excited, big boy. Déjà vu is just my local tattoo dude. You see, this whole torturing my back thing has already been done before.”

  Sparrow looked into the mirror at her tormentor. He was hunched over her back using a tiny, albeit exceptionally sharp instrument to prod her skin. It hurt, but so did every other part of her body.

  “Torturing?” The voice the responded was one of amusement. “This isn’t torture. You know what I noticed?”

  He dug deeper with his knife and Sparrow screamed at the sudden agony.

  “I noticed that you only shift into these markings that you have upon your back.”

  Another one of her screams echoed within the room as he continued slice and dice her back, slow and deep. Heat trickled down her skin, and shook with fear when she realized that it was leaving a very specific shape.

  He’s removing my —

  Pain exploded in a wave of heat and electricity as Agmundr tore a slice of skin right from her back. He held it up in front of her eyes, but she could barely see beyond the stars blasting across her vision.

  “I thought this creature looked familiar indeed.” He held her thin slice of skin between his fingertips. The tiny turquoise and purple hummingbird tattoo flapped in the air like a tiny bloodied flag as he dangled it before her eyes.

  “You are a spy for the dragon king?”

  She ignored him, mesmerized by the sight of the skin he’d peeled from her back.

  “Your intention was to show the king our stronghold? Well, little spy, we’ve been dying to extinguish the last of the Quetzalem royalty. I suppose I should thank you for bringing him to us.”

  “He’s not royalty. We were going on our honeymoon.”

  “This is the realm of Quetzalem slaves, one would not visit here,” his voice boomed as he flipped Sparrow over. She struggled to pull down her shirt. “Tell me that he is the last.” He threw a fist toward her mouth when she didn’t respond.

  “Tell me he is the king.”

  His palm collided with her cheek once more, sending splinters of pain throughout her face.

  “Tell me.” Too pained to speak even if she wanted to, she remained silent.

  “There are other things we can do if you will not speak.”

  She struggled but he slapped her hard and slammed her back down on the metal table placing himself between her legs. He fumbled with her jeans and Sparrow found her only opportunity. Grabbing one of the sharp instruments on the table, she drove it into her tormentor’s flesh. The blade sank deep into his abdomen. He roared an
d cracked her across the face once more, his force causing the instrument to fall to the ground.

  Something threw open door to the torture chamber. Great, reinforcements. Sparrow prepared to give up hope as Agmundr rained blows down upon her, the pain becoming a blur of wet heat.

  And then her tormentor was thrown from her body.

  Pain stopped her from getting up to find out what happened. The sound of a loud explosion erupted in the room. Gunfire. And then gentle hands were gathering her in their grip.

  Her eyes were so swollen she could barely see, but a bright aquamarine glowed down at her. “Rowen?”

  “I’m here, my love. Just rest. I’m getting us out, and you’re going to be fine.”

  But Sparrow heard the hurt in his voice and knew she must look as bad as she felt. She tried to tell him she was okay, but her mouth was in so much pain she relented to Rowen’s request. Yes, rest seemed good.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Rowen carried Sparrow out of the torture chamber. The sick fuck he’d killed had smeared blood all across the room, and judging from Sparrow’s state, it was hers.

  He wished to the Gods he could have taken his time with the hunter who had put his hands on Sparrow. But getting her out of the hell whole and healing her was his primary mission, so he’d had to kill the brute quicker than the man deserved.

  He carried Sparrow back down the hall as gently as possible. Her back was bleeding profusely and her angelic face was covered with blood and bruises. I’ll spend the rest of my life taking care of her. Never going to leave her side.

  Repeating these mantras was the only thing that kept him sane as he navigated the dark maze of hallways. He coldly shot every person as he retraced his steps to Pyrrhus’s cell. Once again, he needed to beg the demon dragon’s healing blood to save Sparrow’s life.

  But as he turned the final corner toward his destination, Rowen was immediately met with gunfire. Rather than set Sparrow down as fight off the guards, Rowen realized he wasn’t capable of letting her go. Instead, he rushed in the opposite direction, determined to find another way out.

  He had no choice but to run now, and Sparrow stirred in his arms. Her eyes were nearly swollen shut. His heart ached at the sight, but her soft voice, barely a whisper caught his attention.

  “Are you bleeding?”

  He recalled the gunshots lodged in his abdomen. “They’re healing, my love.” Rowen paused and looked in both directions. “While we have a moment,” he held Sparrow against his body with one hand, and retrieved her Ring of Immortality. He tried to slip it on, but her fingers were swollen.

  “I love you so much.” He lodged the ring in place the best he could and kissed her fingers. “When we get out of here, I’m going to spend the rest of my immortal life convincing you so.”

  Sparrow’s eyes were unable to show recognition in their semi-swollen state, but her fingers curled against his hand slightly.

  “They’re coming!” Pyrrhus’ voice boomed from several halls down. “Get out of here!”

  The clamor of feet bounded toward them, and Rowen had all the motivation he needed. He had to get Sparrow out.

  Raw fury seeped through his body like poison. Before escaping, he needed to get Sparrow some Quetzalem blood. Erotic dreams be damned; she needed it to survive. He’d rather her dream of Pyrrhus every single night for the rest of her life as long as she lived than to hold her while she died. The desperate need to erase her pain ate at him as he rushed down the halls.

  The sound of pounding feet followed him, and he knew that his chances of getting the blood were becoming slim. All the damn blood slaves were locked up and he sure as hell didn’t have time to find a key.

  “Fire!”

  Rowen heard the command and prepared for the impact of bullets into flesh. He thanked the Gods he didn’t have to worry about the bullets piercing through his torso into Sparrow. Tiny holes burrowed into him like rings of fire, but it was a minor annoyance. Had he not been immortal, the adrenaline to get Sparrow out would have been fuel enough to dull the pain.

  A small crevice in the stonework lie ahead. Meant for artillery to aim through, Rowen knew he would not fit, but it was his quickest opportunity of escape. It would be a long drop, but nothing an immortal couldn’t survive. He might not even break his legs, and if he did, his horse would be back in time to take Sparrow away.

  “Don’t worry, angel, we’re getting out of here.” He crouched around the corner and laid Sparrow against the mystical barrier of one of the cells.

  Guards rushed toward him down the long corridor, but Sparrow was safe from their gunfire. Rowen slammed his body against the small crevice, but no stones knocked loose. As more bullets hit his body, Rowen used his fist as a sledge hammer to peel away at the window. Loose stones around the window began to crumble, making the space slightly larger.

  A couple seconds later, Rowen’s hand was a bloody stump, and his back looked like a bullet proof vest, but the opening was just large enough for him to fit through with Sparrow. Grabbing her semi-conscious body into his arms, he was careful to take each bullet from the guards closing in on them.

  “Don’t let him escape!”

  Holding Sparrow tight against his chest, he made sure she would not be injured by the long fall. Just before he jumped, a throwing blade dipped in poison lodged into his back. He grimaced at the new pain, but focused on the ground as it rapidly got closer.

  He hit the ground with a thud, but his legs held out and Sparrow was only slightly jarred.

  “Rowen?” Her blond hair was sticky with blood against his chest. Her eyes were pained slants, but the sapphires still glittered through swollen lids.

  He summoned the hidden steed with a whistle.

  A crack brought Rowen to his knees. Sparrow tumbled to the ground out of his arms as the giant club-wielding Cyclops brought the weapon over his head once more. Rowen rolled away, unable to stand. The damn beast had shattered his knee.

  Looking to the trees, Rowen spotted his horse barreling toward them. Sparrow would be safe. But he had to get her on its back. Rowen pulled out his astral gun and shot the Cyclops three times in the face. Although it wouldn’t kill the beast, it did blind him. Crawling toward Sparrow, Rowan shielded her body from the direction of the fortress where he was certain more gunmen would arrive any minute.

  Thunder roared in the air, and Rowen braced for impact against whatever artillery they sent his way. But when he glanced up at the approaching steed, his heart exploded with grief. A small canon tore through the stallion sending it to the ground in a bloody heap.

  At the same time, the hoard of guards arrived and hauled him off of Sparrow. Rowen sent bullets into the guts of the men holding him, but with his knee crushed, he stumbled toward the ground. A pile of guards collapsed on him with guns and swords, but he didn’t feel anything close to agony until the sheer number of bodies blocked Sparrow from view.

  “You really thought one man would escape our fortress?” Rowen heard the voice boom through the heap of hunters lying on top of him.

  Rowen continued to fire astral bullets into various fleshy parts smothering him to the ground. But the dead hunters only made it harder to get a visual of Sparrow.

  “You Knights were always an arrogant, self-serving lot. It is a pleasant surprise that I finally have cause to torture one, what with your presence here out of your jurisdiction.”

  Finally, the various wounds from the heap of guards on top of him took their toll, and he couldn’t resist when stronger hands yanked him up. The poison had begun to slowly take effect, but only slightly blurred his vision. As he was wrestled back, Sparrow was still a heap on the ground, left there so the rest of the hunters could deal with him. Good.

  “String him up!”

  Rowen fought against the hunters and Cyclops who dragged him toward a stone adorned with
shackles and bloodstains. He may have blinded the Cyclops, but it was still strong, and the only reason Rowen couldn’t escape the hunters’ weak, humanly grasp.

  They wrapped thick straps of spiked steel around his body, all the way up his arms before locking him into place. In his injured state, the poison was able to get farther into his system and it was taking a toll.

  “You are the one who killed my brother. And so you will be shown no mercy. And no mercy will be shown to your woman.”

  Rowen’s body went berserk at the words, even though his struggles sent spikes of steel deeper into his flesh. As he writhed in fury, the punctures widened and bled freely. But the liquid heat running down his body was nothing compared to the desperation causing a red haze over his vision.

  “I am Mord. I keep the blood slaves here, but on occasion, I obtain other pleasures. You and your friend will be my amusement. Eventually, you will be killed, and I will keep your woman for my own.”

  Rowen fought against the bonds, not caring if the barbed steel cut his body in half. “Touch her and die!”

  Mord stepped over to Sparrow’s body and yanked her up by a heavily bruised arm. She stirred, and her lashes fluttered, but couldn’t fully open against the swollen lids. Rowen’s body ached to be free and slaughter everyone in sight.

  “Wake up, woman scum.” Mord gripped Sparrow’s arm and cracked her across the face. She whimpered, but was too weak to fight back. Rowen’s fresh fury caused him to tear one of his shackles from the stone wall.

  “Let him taste our poison once more.”

  A hunter approached Rowen and shoved a poisoned dagger deep into his stomach. Rowen’s free hand shot to the neck of his attacker. He squeezed until the human’s eyeballs bulged out of his head. With a snap of his injured wrist, the hunter fell to the ground in a heap. Only the poisoned dagger lodged deep in Rowen’s gullet served as a reminder that the human ever lived.