Chained by Darkness (Sensor Series, Book 2.5)

by Illene, Susan

  There was a time when he never would have allowed himself to rely on a sensor. Now he wanted her close to him. He could honestly say he didn’t care what race she came from anymore. Melena was Melena and that was all that mattered. The same could be said for Emily.

  The real difficulty was figuring out whether he could judge other sensors on an individual basis or not. Lucas had spent centuries considering them all bad. Did it matter at this point if half of him came from a sensor, rather than a human?

  Lucas lifted his head. “The reasons for my hating most sensors are still there. The recent events in Juneau prove some of them are still seeking to destroy supernaturals in whatever way they can—even if it means using demons to do it. Not to mention their desire to use Melena to propagate their race against her will. The only thing I can promise is I’ll try to determine whether or not they are a danger to her or myself before deciding if I should rip their heads off.”

  He may have just sealed his fate, but the truth had been his only option.

  “Very well,” Remiel said, heading back to the table. “I expected your answer to be something along those lines.”

  The archangel unfurled the scroll he’d brought in and produced a quill. With that he wrote out something on the parchment before passing the two items along to the others. Each of them took a turn reading it before signing. Other than a brief flash in Haniel’s gaze, none of their emotions showed.

  Remiel took the scroll back and stood before the table. “I hereby sentence you, Lucas of Pistiros, to thirty years in Purgatory. After you have completed your time there, you will be assigned a new sensor who you will endeavor to protect better than the last. All the provisions of your contract remain in effect.”

  Lucas allowed the breath he’d been holding to release. They would allow him to live. It was a step in the right direction, but now he had to ask for more. He lifted his chin and met the archangel’s eyes.

  “I request that you bind my soul back to Melena. At least allow me to leave Purgatory whenever her life is in danger. I will cooperate in any way you wish if you give me that. And after the thirty years is over, you can bind me to any other sensor as you see fit.”

  Remiel stared at Lucas for a moment before turning to Eli. “There is an angel outside waiting to escort you back to the mortal realm. Thank you for your time.”

  It didn’t take a mind reader to figure out the psychologist was disappointed to be dismissed. Eli slowly raised himself from the bench and gave Lucas a short nod as he passed him. Silence enshrouded the courtroom for several minutes. Eventually, Remiel turned his attention back to Lucas.

  “You lost the right to protect Melena Sanders when you put her life in danger.” Remiel moved closer. “Furthermore, any chance that we might have reassigned her back to you went away when you fed her your blood. That’s the price you must pay for that indiscretion.”

  Lucas kept his gaze locked with the archangel’s. There was still one more alternative. It wasn’t one he cared for all that much, but better than nothing. The archangels had certainly made a big enough deal about her near death that they couldn’t really want to risk her life now.

  “Very well.” Lucas worked to keep his tone moderate. “If you won’t allow me to protect her, at least allow me a chance to convince her to turn into a vampire. If she’s not a sensor, the danger will be less for her. With my blood already in her, she’d become strong enough that she might survive on her own.”

  Remiel shook his head. “That’s out of the question.”

  “Why? Would you rather she be dead?” Lucas was quickly losing his patience.

  “That’s exactly the point.” Remiel’s eyes blazed gold. “She won’t survive the transition. As you are well aware, only half of mortals can make the turn. Melena’s body would fight it and she would die.”

  “Then tell me what I can do to protect her.” Lucas couldn’t help that his voice raised several levels this time. He couldn’t take it anymore. They acted completely unconcerned about her life, as if it meant nothing, but they knew damn well she mattered to him. He could survive thirty years in Purgatory if he could just know she was safe.

  “You don’t deserve her, Lucas of Pistiros. For more than two thousand years you’ve led a life of blood and mayhem—your excuses aside. How many people’s loved ones did you callously kill?” Remiel asked, getting in Lucas’ face. “Did you listen to your victims when they pleaded for their lives? Answer me.”

  “No.” He hadn’t.

  If he judged someone worthy of death, he gave it to them no matter what the person said to try and dissuade him. Not once had their pleas meant anything to him. He’d cut them down coldly and without thought—including Melena’s guardian. There might have been another way to deal with her, but he hadn’t bothered to find it. Now he’d pay the price because it was his turn. The angels would use Melena as a lesson against him.

  The archangel turned his back on Lucas. “And now you ask me to have mercy because you finally have someone you care about?”

  Lucas closed his eyes. “She doesn’t deserve to pay for my sins.”

  “She isn’t,” Remiel’s voice floated over to him from across the room where he must have moved. “Melena Sanders wouldn’t be alive now if not for you. Be grateful for the extra time you gave her—it’s more than she would have had.”

  It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Lucas opened his eyes.

  “Zoe will find a way to kill her after she’s out of Purgatory.” He hadn’t wanted to bring up the female nephilim again, but he’d say anything if it might make a difference.

  “She will. Not right away, but eventually.”

  Lucas jumped up. “You know? Yet you choose to do nothing?”

  “It hasn’t happened yet,” Remiel said, “and it’s only one possibility for the future. Something could always happen to change it.”

  “How?”

  “That depends. What does one do when they want something badly enough?” the archangel asked, looking at Lucas intently.

  That was easy enough—they fought for it. He’d face anyone, do anything, if it meant he could keep Melena safe. Lucas straightened his spine. If the archangel wanted a fight, he’d give him one.

  “I challenge you, Remiel, to a duel. If I win, you give me a way to guarantee Melena’s safety until my time in Purgatory is done.”

  The corner of Remiel’s lip lifted. “I should have known you’d take me literally. It is always your habit to resort to violence as the answer.”

  “It’s the only way I know,” Lucas replied, holding his head high.

  “Yes,” Remiel agreed. “That’s part of the problem. I’d guessed easily enough you’d fight for Melena, but the real question is whether you’d sacrifice for her.”

  “What do you want?” Lucas was getting tired of playing these games, but he’d do whatever it took.

  “This isn’t about what I want, nephilim. It’s about what you want. Convince me it’s worth my time to duel against you.”

  Lucas opened his mouth, and then closed it. What did he have to do to convince the archangel? What did he want?

  “How?” he eventually asked.

  “If you don’t know the answer to that, I’m wasting my time.” Remiel sighed and pulled out the key for the shackles on Lucas ankles. “I might as well take you back so you can begin serving your sentence.”

  Lucas clenched his fists behind him. What was he supposed to do? The archangel talked about sacrifice, but he didn’t know what he could give. He had nothing they wanted. His freedom was already forfeit and anything he had on earth would mean nothing to them. All he was asking for was a way to protect Melena.

  The archangel was already unlocking the first shackle. Lucas was running out of time. He scrambled to think of something—anything that might make an impression. Sacrifice. Sacrifice. What could he possibly give? Then it hit him.

  “I’d give my life for hers,” he said, meaning it.

  Remiel paused on the sec
ond shackle. “Though I’m pleased to hear you care for her that much, it’s not enough. Dying after living as long as you have isn’t that great of a sacrifice. I want to see you make a sacrifice you’d have to live with.”

  “Don’t do this to him,” Ariel said, coming forward. “He’s shown enough.”

  Remiel freed the shackle and stood. “To remake a man, you must first break him. Even now he holds back the one thing he’d sworn he’d never do. Until he does that, he’s proved nothing that would make him worthy of dueling with me.”

  “I, for one, would enjoy seeing this,” Haniel spoke up.

  Uriel nodded. “I would as well.”

  Lucas looked between them all, still not understanding. Only Zadkiel held himself back. The archangel didn’t appear to approve of whatever it was they discussed. “This is not right,” he muttered from his seat.

  “Come,” Remiel said, taking Lucas’ arm. “You’ve had your chance.”

  “Wait.” He refused to budge and focused on Ariel. “What is it he wants?”

  She looked at him with sad eyes. “Pride. He’s asking you to sacrifice your pride to prove how much Melena means to you.”

  “He won’t do it. Look at how angry his face just got,” Haniel said.

  For once the archangel was right, it was the one thing Lucas couldn’t do. He’d sworn he’d never bow down to anyone. His father had made him do it when he was growing up, but Lucas had stopped as soon as he grew strong enough to resist. That had to be what Remiel wanted now.

  He jerked when the archangel grabbed his arm, but he didn’t fight him. The expanse between the bench where he’d sat and the entrance somehow seemed shorter than before. His feet began to drag as they drew closer to the opening.

  Melena’s face flashed before his mind. He thought of the rare smiles she gave him and how he’d hoped to see more of them. His fingers still itched to run through her hair one last time. They wouldn’t even give him that.

  Zoe had threatened to make Melena suffer first before she killed her. Would she hand Mel over to her father so he could force her to breed a new generation first? Jerome was still out there and he’d more than proven he’d use his daughter in the worst ways. The thought of Melena being forced to sleep with other sensors sickened him. Not long ago the group held her captive and drugged for days—barely refraining from raping her before Lucas rescued her.

  She’d be helpless and he wouldn’t be able to save her. Then, once they’d used her up, Zoe would return to kill Melena in what would probably be an excruciating way—the woman was no doubt getting ideas while under Kerbasi’s care. Lucas would come out thirty years from now to a world without his sensor in it. Was keeping his pride intact worth it? Could he live with himself for eternity knowing he’d failed her once again?

  He jerked to a halt just before they reached the entrance. Remiel took one look at Lucas’ face and stepped away. “How much is her life worth to you, nephilim?”

  “Everything,” Lucas choked out.

  He could do this. He had to do this for Melena—for her future. His knees protested and he hadn’t even moved them yet. Every one of the archangels stood there, watching him, waiting to see if he’d do it. The shackles still holding his wrists dug into his skin as he stretched them taut. A part of him died a little as he bent that first knee. Just a few inches, but he had to keep going. Down. Even further. Until with a pained sigh, it touched the ground. He bowed his head and kept his focus on the tile beneath him.

  There was still one more. Lucas forced his left foot back so the other knee could move down as well. Seconds passed as ever so slowly it moved to join the first. Ariel was sniffling. If no one else understood what a sacrifice this was for him, somehow, she did. Finally, both knees rested on the tile and he looked up to meet Ariel’s eyes first. They were swollen and red.

  Lucas turned to look at Remiel next, ignoring what were probably gloating expressions on two of the others. The archangel had his arms crossed.

  “Now challenge me,” Remiel said.

  He’d wanted Lucas to do it from his knees. The bastard. He had to think of Melena, but it killed Lucas to have to look up at Remiel while saying the words.

  “Archangel, I challenge you to a duel for the right to protect Melena Sanders,” he said, forcing his voice to come out strong.

  Remiel narrowed his eyes. “I’ll accept on three conditions.”

  Lucas should have known it would only get more complicated.

  “The first is that it won’t be you protecting Melena Sanders. She will be doing it herself. Your job will be to give her the tools she needs to do it.”

  “How?” Lucas didn’t see what he could give her that would be enough for her to stay alive on her own against someone like Zoe or her allies.

  “Three doses of your blood will make her immortal. She’s already had the first, leaving you only two more to give. Enough time has passed that she will be able to accept the second within a few weeks, but you won’t be able to give her the third until around the time Zoe is released from Purgatory. There is no way around this as too much nephilim blood in too short a time is fatal. You were lucky you didn’t overdo it the first time.”

  “What exactly will it do to her? Will she lose her sensing abilities?” Lucas asked. The idea of her becoming immortal suited him. It was going to become an issue someday anyhow, so he couldn’t object to that, but he had to be sure it would make her strong enough.

  “She’ll retain her senses because unlike turning a human into a vampire, you will only be altering her physically. No magical abilities come with the change, or curses against sunlight for that matter, thereby leaving no conflict. Over time—and to some degree even now—she’ll heal faster, move faster, and become stronger. Once she’s had all three doses, only beheading will kill her. That’s what you’ll be giving her. I believe she is already more than capable of putting those things to good use.”

  It would make Lucas feel better if she had all that, but would she survive long enough to get them? He couldn’t risk this all being for naught.

  “What guarantee do I have that Zoe won’t get to her before I give her that last dose? Or some other person bent on killing her?”

  Remiel glanced at the other archangels. “A protective shroud will be placed over her and Emily so that anyone meaning them harm won’t know where they are located. Which brings me to my second condition. Melena must both agree to take the doses of her own free will and promise not to reveal her new physical condition until there is absolutely no choice. She’s hidden the subtle changes from the first dose, but that must continue with the next ones because once anyone finds out—beyond those who are permitted to know—the protective spell will cease to exist.”

  “Who is on the list of people who may know?” He’d have to relay all this information to Melena and be sure she understood it completely. Even one slip could ruin everything.

  “Obviously, everyone in this room, in addition to the One above. He will be placing the protective shroud because even we are...” Remiel cleared his throat, “limited in our capabilities when it comes to sensors. Your brother and the shaman Charlie will also be updated with this latest agreement. Emily should know as well. It will be impossible to hide from her because the increased level of Melena’s power will be felt at close range by other sensors. The girl has already begun to suspect something is off.”

  Lucas almost wanted to smile. It wasn’t easy to get something by Emily. “The third condition?” he asked.

  “Aside from the protective shroud, these conditions will only be made possible if you win the duel. Also, no matter the outcome you will serve double the sentence we gave you, making it sixty years. That’s the price you must pay for the chance to give her immortality—something we have forbidden until now.” Remiel dropped his arms to his sides. “Can you live with these terms?”

  “On one condition of my own.” Lucas was more than ready to get off his knees, but he had to make sure he had a chance of winning t
his fight. The stakes were too high not to.

  “You’re in no position to make stipulations of your own,” the archangel frowned at him. “What is it?”

  “The duel must take place in Purgatory where they hold cage fights between prisoners. I assume it will prevent your magic from being used the same way as mine?” Lucas sure as hell hoped it would or else all Remiel had to do was freeze him and it would be over.

  “I’ve not heard about this cage,” the archangel rubbed his chin, “but if you can fight in it, so can I. It was not my intention to use magic against you anyhow, but I will require swords. Is it large enough for that?”

  Lucas and Bartol had been allowed to fight with various weapons in it before, though Kerbasi didn’t hand them over until they were inside. He’d squeeze them between the bars or under one of the cage doors. The man didn’t trust them at all, but he enjoyed the bloodshed too much to pass up the opportunity.

  “It’s close quarters, but there is enough room to maneuver,” Lucas answered.

  “Then we are in agreement.” Remiel nodded once. “You will be given two weeks to prepare yourself and regain your strength. I won’t have you claiming you lost because that foolish guardian finds mistreating his prisoners to be amusing. Now stand. Even I can only take so much of seeing you like this.”

  The archangel grabbed Lucas’ arm and helped him to his feet. Lucas would rather have stood on his own, but he’d wait until the duel to unleash his anger on Remiel. If he was to regain any of his pride, and ensure a future with Melena, he had to win this fight.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I’m not sure whether it’s more difficult to believe you challenged an archangel,” Bartol said, swinging his sword, “or that he accepted.”

  Lucas bent backwards to dodge the strike, following it through with a thrust of his own blade. It nicked Bartol’s shoulder before he could move away.