That made no sense. How could they have gotten Ezekiel out? “How? How were they going to free him? His prison was unbreakable.” Elijah knew. Over the last five hundred years, he’d tried to get through it many, many times when no one else was around to see him crack.
“There was a safeguard created at the time he was put in the prison to get him out. Ezekiel and Nate found out about it, and they acquired all the tools necessary to perform the ritual that would free him.”
Elijah worked his jaw. “And it worked?”
“Yeah. He’s out.”
“The prison walls fell?”
Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know the logistics. We weren’t at the prison when it happened. We were at the pit—”
Elijah felt a stab of frustration. “If you weren’t at the prison, how do you know he’s out?” Was he out or not? Elijah couldn’t touch him if he was still protected behind those walls.
“We saw him—” Quinn began.
“No.” Elijah leaned forward, burning with the intensity to know what was going on. “None of us have ever seen him. We don’t know what he looks like. How do you know the person you saw was him?”
“Ezekiel took over the body of Drew, the young Calydon Frank had abducted, and then he took off. We couldn’t contain him.”
Elijah frowned. “He took over another Calydon’s body? How in the hell would you know that’s what happened? How do you know it wasn’t Drew the whole time?”
There was a shift of energy in the room. “It was obvious,” Quinn said. “Trust me.”
“Trust you? Ezekiel was unstoppable two thousand years ago, and he’s had all this time to figure out what he did wrong last time. He’s smart, smarter than we are prepared for.” Elijah shook his head and stood up, grabbing Ana’s wrist and pulling her to her feet. “I’m going to the prison to see if he’s still there—”
“Wait.” A woman Elijah didn’t know stepped forward. She was wearing jeans and a white blouse. She had long, blond hair, and her green eyes were brimming with intelligence and wit. On her arms were the full marks of Gideon’s throwing axe.
Shock rippled through Elijah. He shot a sharp glance at Gideon. You’re fully bonded with her?
Gideon responded with a pulse of intense satisfaction. Yeah. Kicks ass.
But what about destiny? Going rogue? All that shit? Elijah knew the history of the sheva. He’d seen thousands of Calydons go rogue after completing the bond. No Calydon had ever come back from going rogue because of his sheva.
That was the Order’s mission: to kill rogue Calydons, including the ones who went rogue because of the bond. But when an Order member bonded, the sheva had to be sacrificed because the Order member was too critical to the survival of humanity. It was impossible to bond safely. Impossible. But Gideon was standing there, grinning at him like some smug, oversexed fool. His eyes were black, and Elijah could tell he was nowhere close to rogue. How the hell are you standing there?
No damn clue. Gideon’s smile faded. We’re taking it one day at a time.
Well, shit. What else had happened while Elijah had been gone? He shifted restlessly, uncomfortable that there was so much going on that he didn’t know about. He needed to get a grip on the situation, and get control, to get information that he could confirm, instead of having all this shit tossed at him.
He needed to get to Ezekiel’s prison and find out for sure whether he was free or not. He would be able to tell with absolute certainty, in a way that his team wouldn’t. He knew he would.
“Elijah.” Gideon’s sheva’s voice was almost musical in its lilting tones. “I’m Dr. Lily Davenport, the world’s leading expert on Calydons—”
“Dr. Davenport?” Elijah narrowed his eyes, shifting his weight restlessly, needing to hit the road and go check out the prison. “The one who screwed up our missions by releasing information we didn’t want out?” She was now invited to Order strategy sessions and had been allowed to bond with Gideon? What the fuck was going on?
Her cheeks tinged pink. “Yes, well, I apologize for that.” She walked forward, ignoring the weapons which were still out, coming to a stop in front of him, as if she had no fear at all.
Gideon shifted, and she shot him a glare, as if he’d ordered her not to get so close to Elijah and she’d told him to back off. Then she smiled at Ana. “You doing okay?”
Ana nodded. “Fantastic.”
Elijah felt the warmth between the two women, and he looked back and forth between them, trying to put all the pieces together. How did Ana know her? Where had Lily come from? He felt like his head was spinning, trying to play catch up. Then his eyes narrowed as he watched Lily. There was warmth, yeah, but she was also looking at Ana as if she were trying to ferret out secrets that Ana didn’t want to share.
Elijah pulled Ana closer to him, shifting so his shoulder was in front of hers. The team might trust Lily Davenport, but he trusted no one, not until he had enough facts to make those decisions.
The smile faded from Lily’s face, and she looked at Elijah. “Ana’s lying. She’s not okay.”
Elijah glanced at Ana, at the circles under her eyes and the haunted shadows on her face. She looked exhausted. Not just from a lack of sleep. From so much more. She’d suffered, was still suffering. And he was about to drag her out after Ezekiel? Yeah, touching her freaked him out on a certain level, but on another level, she was also his female, and his job was to keep her safe. And he was failing her more with every passing minute. Regret filled him that he had to inflict more upon her, and he pulled her closer against him. “I know,” he said quietly. “I know she’s struggling.”
Ana’s eyes flashed with indignation. “I’m fine. You guys have to stop treating me like I’m going to break. I’m fine!”
I know you’re strong, sweetheart. I’d never doubt that.
She looked at him, and he saw the confusion flicker across her face, as if she couldn’t reconcile his belief in her strength with his need to take care of her.
Lily ignored Ana’s protest, her gaze boring down on Elijah with fierce protectiveness. “You’ll take care of her?”
Elijah decided he liked Gideon’s sheva. Anyone who could demand his sheva’s safety like that got his respect. He met her gaze, acknowledging her request. “You need to ask?”
Ana stiffened next to him, and he knew she didn’t want him to go all macho protector on her. He slanted a glance at her, wondering what was going on with her. Why was she so against his protecting her? They were going to have to talk about it, because he wasn’t going to back down. He couldn’t help himself. It was simply the way he was.
Lily cocked her head, and her shoulders relaxed. “No, I guess I don’t need to ask.” She smiled again, and this time it was a real smile, and her eyes brightened with sharp focus. “Okay, so I did some research and confirmed Ana’s discovery that you’re distantly related to Caleb, Ezekiel’s brother. The one who brought him down. The only one who could bring him down.”
Elijah nodded impatiently. “I’m aware of that.”
Her eyebrows went up. “You already knew? And you never told anyone?”
He swore under his breath at his slip. “Quinn told me earlier,” he amended. Which was true. He wasn’t about to tell them what else he’d already known.
Ana was studying him a little too carefully, and he tensed, trying to keep his mind blank so she didn’t pick up on anything, wishing he could risk shutting her out entirely.
“But I haven’t been able to figure out how Caleb took him down,” Lily continued. “No legends have been passed down over the generations about what happened between the brothers. All we know is that when Ezekiel stole Caleb’s wife, Caleb went into a rage and rounded up his team and went after him. While his team was fighting with Ezekiel’s armies, Caleb slipped past the battle and the next thing anyone knew, Ezekiel was incapacitated.”
“We all fought him last week,” Gideon said. “I was enhanced at the time, and even I couldn’t stop him. He’s too powerful
for us, just like he was too strong for everyone two thousand years ago.”
“Since I’m distantly related to Caleb, you think I can stop him?” Elijah knew full well he was a brutal warrior, fierce and deadly. Along with Gideon and Quinn, they were the only Order members who hadn’t lost a battle in five hundred years…the others who’d lost were all dead.
Elijah was as strong as his blood brothers were, but he wasn’t more than they were. They were equals, and if they hadn’t been able to hold even with Ezekiel, he wouldn’t be able to either. But was there a way he could? Anticipation rippled through him, and he leaned forward, itching for the answers that had eluded him for so long. “How do I kill him? Tell me.”
Ana spoke then. “Frank was keeping you alive because he wanted you available to take Ezekiel down if he couldn’t control him. You were his safety insurance.” She looked at him, and he saw the bitterness of reality in her eyes. “Frank had spent a long time planning his release of Ezekiel. If he believed you could take him down, then he had a reason for it. The place collapsed before I could find out what it was, but I know there’s a reason. You have something the others don’t.”
“And what exactly do I have?” He just wanted to know so he could get the hell out of there and finish what he’d been needing to do for five hundred years. Before he couldn’t do it…before Ezekiel figured out his weakness and—
No. He wasn’t going down that road. He wasn’t going to let it get to that point.
Elijah realized suddenly that no one had responded to his question, and he looked around the room “No one knows what my special talent is?”
There was silence.
A grim silence.
A silence that told him exactly how desperate they were.
Shit. They were running blind. Dead blind. “I’m going to Ezekiel’s prison. I’ll find out if he’s still there or not, and then—”
Ryland stopped pacing. “We all go. To avenge Dante.”
“Avenge Dante?” Elijah frowned, suddenly noticing Dante’s absence. “Why isn’t he here? He’ll know.” Dante. Damn. Why hadn’t he thought of him before? Elijah’s legs suddenly started to tremble with relief. He’d been so consumed with Ana and trying to stay sane that he hadn’t thought of Dante. Shit. Dante was the one who’d brought Elijah back before. It had been so long since then that Elijah hadn’t thought of it in centuries, but shit! Dante could help him rebuild the walls in his mind and partition off the nightmares like he’d done five hundred years ago. Eagerness pulsed through Elijah. “Where is he?”
The room fell silent, and he felt the air thicken with grief. His own throat tightened when he realized what he was feeling. “Impossible,” he whispered. “No one could kill Dante.” Denial screamed in his mind for the man who’d rescued him, who’d brought him to this very house five hundred years ago and taught him that the nightmares in his head didn’t have to own him. It was Dante who taught him to shove it aside, Dante who was the one who could help him now. “Where the hell is he?”
Quinn’s gaze flicked to Ana. “Dante is dead.”
“No!” Denial assaulted Elijah, followed by anger, an intense fury that rose inside him like a black wraith, hitting him hard. His body shook with rage, with loss, with such utter devastation, and he felt his walls start to fall. His control shattering— “He can’t be dead. He can’t be.”
It was Ryland who answered. “He is dead.” His voice was so bitter, harsh and lost that Elijah knew instantly it was true.
It was true. He threw back his head and roared, his emotions ripping out of him for the man who had been their leader for so long. Their salvation. Every one of the warriors in the room had been saved by Dante, and every one of them was dependent on him for survival.
Including him.
Especially him. Especially now.
A demon appeared in the corner of the room, sitting on the wall, teeth bared, claws dripping with blood. Then another next to it. Then another. Oh, shit. Elijah started to back toward the door, panic rushing through him, his stomach lurching—
Ana’s fingers tightened around his. Her hand was ice cold in his grasp. Then her mind touched his, enveloping him in warmth and light and rationality. There’s no threat right now, Elijah. It’s not there. It’s an illusion.
With her presence in his mind and her hand in his, Elijah’s head cleared, and he suddenly realized the demons weren’t real. They couldn’t hurt him. Fuck off, he snarled. All three of them blinked out.
Then he thought of Dante again, and the grief came crashing back, the panic, the—
Quinn’s palm came down heavily onto Elijah’s shoulder, and Elijah felt the depth of Quinn’s grief mirroring his own. Elijah raised his head to look into his friend’s eyes. “How do you deal?”
Quinn shook his head. “I’m still trying.”
Gideon walked up beside Quinn and Elijah, dropping his shields and letting Elijah into his own private hell of grief from the loss as well.
Elijah closed his eyes and let the strength of his friends seep into him. Their grief was as deep and brutal as his, but they’d had time to build their defenses, to cope with it, to make themselves able to function, and he gratefully accepted their strength. He had no time to collapse now. He’d never survive it.
Quinn’s gaze flicked to Ana, then back to Elijah. “Dante died to keep Ezekiel from getting free. Frank and Nate were going to use him in the rite so Ezekiel could feed on Dante’s power. Dante chose death instead.”
“His sacrifice will not be in vain. Those who are responsible for his death must die.” There was so much fury and anger in Ryland’s voice that Elijah’s forearm tingled and he slowly raised his head to look at Ryland and make sure his eyes hadn’t turned red. Without Dante around to keep Ryland under control, it was simply a matter of when Ryland went rogue. Not if.
But in this, Ryland was right. Elijah met his gaze, felt his own rage mirror Ryland’s. “Everyone responsible for Dante’s death will die.” He could feel it in the emotions raging through him, and he embraced it, letting his anger, his grief give him strength and fire, everything he would need to take down Ezekiel and survive the hell of his mind long enough to do what he needed to do.
“Everyone responsible for Dante’s death will die?” Ryland’s eyes were black with rage and his gaze flicked to Ana. “Then you should know that your sheva killed—”
“No need for that.” Thano interrupted, stepping between Elijah and Ryland. “Let’s focus on what we’re doing. The only thing that matters is stopping Ezekiel. Whether you do it to honor Dante or because that’s our job as Order members, it’s our only focus right now.” He looked hard at Ryland. “No need to fuck it up by bringing up things that don’t matter right now, right?”
There was a tension in the room that wasn’t about Ryland almost going rogue, and it didn’t settle when Ryland shrugged and walked away. Elijah could feel that everyone’s thoughts were focused on Ana.
Elijah slowly stood up, blocking everyone’s view of Ana. He didn’t know what was going on with her, but he didn’t like the threats angled in her direction. There was a hostility aimed directly at her, and he had a sudden realization that some members of the Order were very, very close to taking her out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
What’s going on, Ana? Elijah brushed her mind as he unfolded his arm to ready himself to call out his throwing star, his adrenaline skyrocketing.
She didn’t answer, but he caught an image from her mind. Of Dante falling to the ground, screaming, his hands over his ears, terror emanating from every pore, his body shaking with debilitating horror.
Sweat broke out on Elijah’s forehead, and he stumbled as he saw Nate lunge at Dante and slash his throat. “Jesus.” Elijah’s body began to shake, and Ana grabbed him as he fell to his knees, his hands on his throat, screams welling up. The acrid smell of blood assaulted him, the agonizing sound of millions of people being tortured, the terror of a death more horrific than his worst nightmares—
&n
bsp; “Stop it!” Ana shouted at Elijah, her hands digging into his shoulders. “Those are my memories! Not yours!”
Her voice touched a place in Elijah’s mind, and suddenly her hands felt hot against his skin, and reality came tumbling back. He grabbed Ana and hauled her against his chest, holding her tightly as the last visions of Dante’s death faded, leaving behind nothing but the violent horror of the illusions shaking through his body. What the fuck was that?
She pressed her face into his neck, her body shaking as violently as his. I was there. My illusion brought Dante down so Nate could kill him. I did it, Elijah. I killed your leader.
Jesus. His own mate had killed Dante? Shock rolled through him, and he pulled back from her, stunned by her claim. You’re wrong.
No. I did it. Those silver eyes were full of such guilt and self-recrimination, pain that reached into his soul and found a place of softness that he didn’t know he had. He couldn’t condemn her, couldn’t blame her, not when he could feel her guilt hammering at him, tearing apart her soul, shredding what little courage she still had.
Come here. Elijah tightened his grip on her and pulled her back against him, offering Ana comfort instead of taking it from her.
Her eyes were so haunted, and so heavily burdened with all that her time with Nate had cost her. She was broken inside, truly broken. Elijah framed her face in his hands, wiping away the single tear that had managed to escape her rigid control. It wasn’t your fault.
There was no doubt in his mind she hadn’t had a choice in it. He might be half-mad, but he knew that Ana’s heart and soul beat with a purity that he’d never encountered in five hundred years of living. She was pure innocence, no matter what she had done or experienced.
Yes, it was my fault. The expression on Ana’s face denied his words so thoroughly he knew she’d never believe him. She couldn’t believe him. The way he saw demons, she saw blood on her hands.
He burned suddenly with rage for the bastards who had robbed her of her innocence, who had poured tar into her soul and let it fester. Murdering was for Order members like him, not for Ana. Never for Ana.
Darkness Surrendered (Primal Heat Trilogy #3) (Order of the Blade) Page 12
