Chago floated in a timeless vortex of soothing blankness, lulled into a tranquil, healing oblivion.
Awareness returned in stages.
Cool. Damp.
A quick glance around offered no clue to his whereabouts and a fast check of his limbs found everything in working order again.
He managed to stand, only to strike his head on a hard surface. Fumbling, he extended his hands to determine the dimensions of his shrouded surroundings. His fingertips registered the stark reality — small and without a tangible exit. Fantastic.
His phone, concealed from the soldiers and still in his possession, provided some illumination but no signal. The low battery light flashed near the upper right-hand corner of the screen. Shit.
Chago held the device aloft and performed a quick survey of the area, relieved to discover a hidden egress toward the rear of the cave, cramped but passable. He switched the device off to conserve power and stumbled forward as his eyes slowly readjust to the dark. Jaw clenched, he stuffed his large frame through the tunnel and out into a much larger enclosure. A crevice in the rocks aloft allowed a few beams of light to shine through and provided his only means for escape.
Several large boulders rested in one corner. Chago stacked them to construct a makeshift ladder and a modicum of hope returned. With Xander and Luther’s help, they’d ensure Irena’s safety.
Life was good.
A sneeze issued from the tunnel entrance, followed by a menacing growl. He turned slowly to find dozens of eyes gleaming orange in the gloom, the occasional flash of fangs bright as incandescent bulbs. A pack of hyena eyed him like filet mignon.
Life was bad.
He continued to stack rocks while the clan circled, their tongues lolling and saliva dripping. They were hungry — starved, if their gaunt faces and poking ribs were any indication. Chago eyed the space between his capstone and the hole in the ceiling. If he jumped he might make it. If he fell, he most certainly wouldn’t. Even immortality had its limits.
Years of Scion training had drilled the rules into his head. If the main portions of his body remained intact, he would survive. Scattered parts meant all bets were off. With no one else available to pick up his pieces — and the way the mangy pack appeared ready to pounce, there would definitely be pieces — he’d be a goner.
The alpha jumped to his makeshift tower’s base.
Chago scrambled higher on the pile with the snap of jaws sharp on his heels. The exit loomed farther than his outstretched grip. Jagged rocks offered the promise of a solid hold, if he could extend his reach. He glanced down to find the rest of the pack had followed their leader. One pair scrambled higher to a small shelf of rock. The alpha leapt for another shot, his yellow eyes bright with deadly intent.
Out of options, Chago drew a deep breath and jumped. His fingertips scrabbled against the sharp stone, his legs swinging in a perilous arc above the cavern. Biceps strained, he hoisted up and attempted to climb toward the opening. He reached and found purchase, but his relief was short lived. A crack echoed through the cave. The chunk of rock beneath his grip broke free.
Arms flailing, he plummeted.
Time seemed to slow.
A patch of blue sky above twinkled a merry taunt at his fall.
His body impacted the hard stone floor with the force of a one-mile nosedive. The air exploded from his lungs and his bones shattered like dry chalk, rivaling the agony of the canines tearing his flesh to shreds.
His final groan escaped as a solemn prayer. “Irena.”
Chapter 15
Irena sat curled up in the corner of the sofa in Xander’s room, her phone in hand. Every vibration of the device prompted her to scroll furiously through the delivered messages, hoping for a word from Chago.
Days ago, she hadn’t known he existed. Now, it seemed she couldn’t survive without him. No other man appealed to her in the way he did. No other person touched that area inside of her, wounded and broken by atrocity. No other soul seemed so attuned to hers. Damn, she missed him. If honesty prevailed, her heart had struck a proprietary claim on the brooding warrior the night of the fundraiser gala.
“I got something!” Luther pointed to his laptop screen. Xander moved into position beside him, as did Innocent.
Relief flooded Irena’s system and she rushed join them.
They’d been able to use the last signal from Chago’s phone to obtain his GPS coordinates — two hours outside of Kinshasa, near the coast. With what she now knew of Drake’s nefarious deeds, the isolated locale made sense. The bastard wouldn’t want witnesses — bad for publicity.
“Let’s secure a vehicle and get him the hell out of there.” Xander’s voice had lost none of its bluster since their arrival at the hotel. “We can’t be sure of his physical condition.”
Luther rushed from the room to procure transport.
Xander checked his weapons then turned to Irena and Innocent. “You both stay here. We’ll return soon.”
“No.” She stalked to the door “He’s in trouble because of me. I won’t stay behind.”
Chago’s commander fixed her with the measured stare of a battle-hardened veteran. A look meant to infuse fear in the ordinary person. Too bad she wasn’t ordinary. She’d faced much worse over the years and his glower meant little more than nothing to her now. Irena stood her ground like a true embattled refugee, a deadly huntress on a mission of mercy.
“Please.” Xander changed tactics, his tone now imbued with reason. His quicksilver gaze held the correct amount of concern and warmth. He stepped forward with a sympathetic expression, his warm voice tinged with a hint of Mediterranean accent.
“I’m sure he’s fine and you’ll be more comfortable here. It’s not your fault he’s out there. Protection’s his job.”
The man was good. Very good. She could just imagine women swooning over his tall, dark gorgeousness, but Irena was immune to his potent charms. Her only goal was Chago. She crossed her arms and held firm. “If you don’t take me, I’ll find my own way to the site.”
Innocent snorted from his spot on the sofa and all eyes turned in his direction. “I wouldn’t argue with Ms. Irena. She and Mr. Chago are — ”
Irena coughed and shot Innocent a silencing glare, interrupting his statement.
“Yes, Mr. Balewa?” Xander prodded. “She and Chago are what?”
“Me name’s Innocent. Nobody call me Mr. Balewa except the tax man, so’s I don’t care for it much, yeah? All I saying is she and Mr. Chago work close these last few days. They gots kinship. She might help you find him.”
Irena forced herself to remain steady under Xander’s laser-sharp focus. Chago was in peril and she’d fight heaven and hell to save him.
Luther returned with a set of car keys. “Vehicle’s downstairs. Range Rover.”
Xander stowed the laptop in a messenger bag and slung it across his body. Irena grabbed her phone and followed in his wake. Innocent moved to stand beside her and lifted the hem of his white cotton shirt to reveal the hilt of a sinister looking dagger couched in his waistband.
“Right.” Xander departed, leaving the others to trail him to the elevators. “Let’s go.”
• • •
His world had been reduced to a haze of agony.
Every square inch of real estate on Chago’s person felt bruised, broken or otherwise flayed. Sunlight continued to beam down in a dusty torrent, the angle now elongated, shifting as time pushed forward. A snarl from the shadows focused his attention. Fuck. Where was the hyena pack?
He struggled to sit, but his head spun from blood loss and his lower extremities felt disengaged from the rest of his torso. In his weakened state and with questionable navigational skills at present, flashing was out of the question. Plus, his power reserves were completely drained. Claws skittered in the dim recesses and the occasional growl edged nearer to his face.
Chago slammed his eyes shut and awaited the second onslaught.
Nothing.
He peeked one e
ye open and scanned. Turned to the opposite side and allowed the dizziness to abate before he peered again. A flash of white blipped through his line of vision, the figure’s gaunt silhouette full of jarring angles and wicked lines. The singsong-crazy chuckle and brimstone stench foretold the stranger’s identity. Lucifer. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why did it have to be Lucifer?
Black ooze dripped into a sizzling puddle on the stone floor near his head. A set of bare toes touched down before being covered by the hem of filthy polyester pants. Sulfur choked his already bruised lungs. The infernal creature drew closer and leaned into his face. The combined effect of Lucifer’s crack-addict complexion and his injuries made Chago want to puke.
“Looks like you’ve gotten yourself into a small bind.” Lucifer assessed his numerous wounds with inhuman speed. “Poor boy. My hyena tore you to shreds. Pity. I taught them better than that. One should never toy with one’s food. Ruins the flavor.”
Lucifer flicked his serpentine tongue across his paper-thin lips. A snarl of a smile stretched his cadaverous face into a Grinch-like grin.
“Get away from me.” He struggled to move. “You better be long gone before I heal, otherwise I’m going to kick your sorry ass past Hades and back again.”
The cavern filled with Lucifer’s maniacal laughter, his gaunt frame lounging on the dirt floor beside Chago. “Ah, I’ve missed the Scion jokes. You guys haven’t visited me since the first Seal mission. How’s my Mira? I hear she’s in a family way.”
Chago stifled a groan as his shattered leg bones reset and shoved words past the bile welling in his throat. His sister-in-law’s pregnancy was none of this fucker’s business. “Leave. Now.”
“Come, my pet. You’ve got your own Seal to protect now.” Lucifer’s gaze grew hazy, distant. Finger-like tendrils tickled the outskirts of his consciousness, the phantom prints of unwanted intrusion as Lucifer attempted to probe his mind. “Who knew War could be beautiful?”
“Stay away from her, Devil.” Fists clenched against the solid floor, he rebuilt his depleted mental shields high and thick at the cost of precious healing energy.
“You love her.”
Chago’s heart tripped like a drunken sailor. He didn’t love Irena. He didn’t love anyone. He longed only for the quiet life of the ranch. Retirement. Alone.
Irena’s smiling face flashed in his mind and his resolve disintegrated. Si. He loved her. But to keep her would be insanity. With his affinity for solitude and her penchant for trouble, they’d both end up in a sanitarium.
“Where’s my son?”
The abrupt change of topic jarred Chago back to reality. Archon’s mangled face replaced Irena’s sunny grin and his nausea crested. “We’ve got the situation under control.”
“Obviously. Look at you.”
Chago flipped him off.
Lucifer chuckled. “Maybe I’ll pop by Divinity’s and see what the Old Bag’s up to.”
An engine roared past the opening overhead and Chago squinted through the increased rain of dust. He turned back to Lucifer, but found him gone. Good riddance.
A car door slammed and Xander’s voice echoed down. Help had arrived. He gave a faint yell, the sound muted by his battered lungs and the possible return of the hyena pack.
No response. He tried again, with one arm braced tight around his still splintered ribs. Still nothing.
Head spinning, he crumpled, missing the four heads now visible through the opening above. Desolation overtook him. He would waste away slowly, starvation his only friend as the animals slowly devoured his remains.
Then he heard Irena’s voice.
Sunlight glinted off the long strands of white-blond hair dangling through the crevice above and his addled brain refused to separate truth from fiction.
Lucifer’s statement echoed in his mind.
You love her.
Heat burned through his veins, obliterating the underlying fear.
A rope dropped and Xander slithered down. He crouched to run an assessing gaze over Chago’s broken form then thumped him on the chest. “Brother, you sure got yourself in a mess this time. Too bad we brought the humans or we’d flash you home.”
Instead, his commander shouted orders for a makeshift stretcher to be lowered.
He steeled himself for the inevitable pain of movement. Luther joined them and together they loaded his wounded body onto the board, attached the rope, and hoisted him to freedom.
As he emerged into the bright sunlight, Chago’s light-dazzled gaze locked on the woman whose fate rested in his hands.
Irena.
• • •
They stopped halfway back to Kinshasa so Xander could make a call and the guys could stretch their legs.
Irena stayed inside to keep an eye on Chago.
She’d not heard a noise from him on their drive home so far and glanced into the rear of the SUV, surprised to find him sitting up and looking back to his regular, robust self. Years of medic training told her what she saw was impossible. Her heart proclaimed otherwise. Had what he told her been the truth?
She needed some air. Irena pushed open the door and moved toward the deserted back of the vehicle on shaky knees. Her rational mind still refused to accept the most obvious explanation. He couldn’t be immortal.
The dusk heat coupled with her growing anxiety took their toll. Irena clutched the rear hatch of the Range Rover as the world spun. As if from a great distance, she heard Chago’s voice, saw him moving toward her as her knees buckled and reality dissolved.
When Irena opened her eyes again, she was inside the cool, shaded interior of the car. A soft weight supported her head and something stroked the hair from her forehead. She squinted, focused.
Chago stared down at her, his ice-blue eyes full of concern.
She struggled to sit up, but he held her in place with a gentle hand.
“Do you believe me, Irena?”
The quiet murmur of his voice worked better than a narcotic. Her muscles turned to jelly. “Believe what?”
“The things I’ve told you.” He raised her palm to his lips. “About me.”
Her nervous chuckle filled the constricted space and she attempted to tug her hand free. His grip tightened, refusing her avoidance. Irena glanced at his chest, at his heart, at the location of several previous mortal wounds. She looked away again as her focus strayed to the feel of his skin against hers, his heat, his taste.
“I’m not human, Irena. Not anymore. Not entirely.”
Irena yanked free of his grasp and sat up, placing her palm on his forehead to check his temperature. His eyes slid closed at her innocent touch. Before she had time to react, his fingers circled her wrist and he tugged her closer, his lips capturing her startled gasp.
She softened beneath his tender assault. Her heart stuttered as he pulled her astride him, his hands skimming below her shirt.
A discreet knock on the window interrupted their interlude.
She scooted back into her seat and buckled her restraint. This was all too much. His hand slid across the seat, searching for hers. She crossed her arms and built an invisible wall around herself. Right now, she didn’t need sex. She needed answers.
Xander slid into the driver’s seat and looked over his shoulder at Irena, as if reading her mind. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I’m sure you have plenty of questions for us.”
• • •
Archon crouched behind a copse of bushes near the side of the Grand Hotel and waited. The sticky night air did little to sooth the itching burn of his parched hide. He’d not banked on the effects of the human realm on his demon tissues. But if his luck ran true, he’d not have to deal with the problem much longer.
An engine roared nearby and soon a silver SUV screeched up to the hotel entrance.
Beneath the dim lights of the portico, Archon sighted his prey. The guard had done well.
Drake exited the vehicle and tossed his keys to the valet. He charged toward the lobby then stopped and pulled his phone from hi
s pocket. Soon he’d stepped off to the side of the building, deep in conversation. Close enough for Archon to make his move.
Possessions were messy and difficult to sustain, complications for which Archon had little time or patience. A full-body takeover was the best solution.
“What the hell do you mean the Soldans disappeared? For fuck’s sake, people don’t just disappear.” Drake continued his increasingly agitated conversation as Archon snuck closer. “I don’t give a shit what you have to do. Find them or you’ll be six feet under by morning.”
He ended the call and started back toward the entrance. Archon stepped from the bushes and blocked his path, knowing there were no lights in this vicinity to disclose his appearance.
“Really?” Drake’s tone was pure antipathy. “Doesn’t anyone around here get a job anymore?” He fumbled in his pockets, pulled out a wallet and tossed it to the ground. “Fine, whatever. Take it. There’s several thousand dollars in there and credit cards. I won’t even report them missing until I get home. Promise.”
Archon advanced, steering him toward his final destination.
The scent of his prey’s adrenaline spiked the air, as Drake seemed to realize this was more than a casual mugging. Archon savored the swell of delicious hormones like a drug, powerless to stop the low growl of pleasure from escaping his throat.
His quarry bolted, intent on escape.
Archon cornered him in the service alley between two dumpsters. Drake scrambled to climb atop one of the bins, but was too late. A single yellow security light glowed overhead, revealing the true horror of the situation.
As Archon advanced, Drake continued his impotent bargaining. “Please. I can get you anything you want. I’ve got power, connections, more money than you could imagine. Just name your price and I’ll get it for you. Anything. Anything at all.”
It was far too little and beyond too late.
Seal of Surrender Page 12
