She shoved the noise to a distant corner of her mind, brain numbed with wool. “Something went wrong.” A dull, thudding sickness. “Their murder…”
“Your parents were making noises about changing their minds.”
Her fire flamed up in spiked edges, flickering onto her fingertips like candles begging to be blown out. “And?”
“They needed speaking to. Your birthday was a perfect excuse.”
“My birthday…”
When their engagement had been announced. When Jonah had been there…
“Jonah went to discuss the matter, but apparently your mother became too hot to handle.” Edward’s smile was thin and humorless. He gestured with his free hand. “Phoenixes.”
Her grip became painful on Excalibur. Too many facts clicked into what he was saying, like the lost puzzle piece Ana had been missing. “And I ran away.” Her voice came out rusty as she tried to pin down her zigzagging thoughts. “That must have been inconvenient.”
Edward’s mouth hooked in a crooked imitation of a smile. Unhinged. “I used other species: demons, the few fae I could catch, valkry, sirens, but my scientists didn’t have any success until a lone phoenix runaway was captured a few months ago. With his DNA, we’ve had more success, but it’s still not strong enough.”
She wondered if she’d known him.
“Don’t you see, Alana? You’re the last remaining royal, barring that idiot cousin of yours. The strongest, most intelligent phoenix. Your DNA holds the key.” A delicate shrug. “The fact that I’ll have conquered Liberty is an added bonus.”
“You’re truly insane.”
“Every great visionary was thought so at one time.” He lifted the sword, examined it. “Either way, I’ll have your DNA, Alana. Willingly or not.”
The siren abruptly died.
Nausea wrung her insides like a sponge at the dead alarm. “I won’t help you hurt more innocents.”
“Then you have made your choice.” Something passed through his eyes, a shadow as slick as tar. His sword began to carve designs in midair. “They will commend your sacrifice in the history texts.”
Ana attacked, fire saturating her veins like a million fire ants demanding blood. Her sword sliced toward him.
Edward met it with a pitched laugh as he parried and fell into a defensive pattern.
The song of battle crooned in her grunts of effort, in the taunts and laughs, in the metallic music of the swords as they met and retreated. The fire murmured alto in the background.
He was good.
So was she.
On equal ground, they shifted in tight circles, lunging, parrying, slicing and stabbing, until briny sweat burned her eyes, until the rhythmic beat of fire lurched to flicker over her skin.
Her foot caught on the rug as she went to stab him, her aim going wide. His sword sliced across the small of her back, pain smarting in its wake.
Cutting off a yelp, Ana dropped to the floor, launching herself up as soon as her toes touched the floorboards.
As their swords tangled, he locked on to her. “I’ll kill that bodyguard, too, once I’ve dealt with you.”
A shriek of fury left her, fist jabbing out with bone-crushing precision to strike his nose. Her knuckles screamed when they rebounded off bone denser than it should have been.
Too late.
He caught her hand in his fist and squeezed.
She couldn’t break free; that should’ve been impossible. To equal a phoenix’s strength…his experiments were working.
A scream of undiluted agony flowed from her mouth as bone splintered and her skin split from the pressure.
Desperate, Ana threw the shackles from her fire. Sparks caught and burned, crawling up her skin like she’d been doused with gasoline. Orange and red blazed like a supernova as the song of phoenix flame poured out of her.
With a strangled shout, Edward released her, falling back. He blew on his charred skin with frantic breaths.
Her body tumbled down. Cradling her injured hand to her chest, Ana wrestled against the strikes of pain lancing her brain.
Now.
Rocketing up with her remaining energy, Ana grabbed the silver sword that’d fallen on its side. The lettering gleamed in the light from the flames that licked and pirouetted on her skin.
What flies must fall.
Hefting Excalibur, she darted under Edward’s guard and swung, flaring a line of fire along the blade. Her vision narrowed until there was only him, dark in the fire’s light.
The blade cut across his gut, slicing skin like silk.
Sweet agony registered a millisecond later, exploding through her system as Edward’s sword pierced her belly.
She screamed.
Cade’s head snapped up at Alana’s scream. He barely avoided Gable’s sword, swearing as he dodged out of the way.
“You know he’s mad.” Urgency pounded on him like waves eroding a cliff. She needs me.
Sweat gleamed on Gable’s brow. “He’s better than you’ll ever be. He’s rebuilding the human race.”
“He’s destroying everything.” Cade felt his shoulder sing with the force of Gable’s blade. A snarl layered his words. “He’s mad.”
“He’s a genius.” Feverish devotion lit Gable’s face as he lunged.
Cade cursed, his sword knocked from his grip to clatter to the floor. He rolled out of the way, forced in the opposite direction. He sought anything resembling a weapon. Back-against-the-wall time.
“What the fuck?”
“Garrett!” Gable’s voice was pleased when he greeted his twin.
Two sons would take too long.
Cade was losing control of his animal, the jackal clawing bloody strips into Cade’s hide. He snatched up a shard of glass that’d been knocked from one of the crystal walls.
Do or die.
Garrett’s twisted lips told of sheer annoyance, as though the ultimate purpose here was to inconvenience him. He unsheathed his sword, a glow lighting his eyes to an iridescent sapphire. “Pick up your weapon.”
Cade hesitated, scanning Garrett’s face, trying to see what the trick was.
“What are you doing?” Gable was incensed. “Kill him.”
“I won’t kill an unarmed man.” Garrett raised his eyebrows. His boot tapped. “Pick it up.”
Cautious, Cade bent and, watching the unpredictable son, felt for the hilt of his sword. He dragged it across the carpet.
He stayed in a crouch.
“Get up.”
“He’s a maniac, you know that, right?” Reasonably said, despite the panic about to override logic. He was ready to go full-on wild if he didn’t sway Garrett to his side.
“Get up.”
“He tortures people for their powers. He kills children.”
Garrett didn’t waver. “Stand or die on your knees.”
“He tried to kill your brother.”
Garrett snorted, even as Gable loudly negated that statement. “Not likely; he loves the prick.”
“Not him. Your other brother. Gabriel.”
Garrett’s face blanked as fast as somebody turning off a light. His sword wavered. “I have no other.”
“He’s thirteen. An empath.”
Recognition flirted with dawning fury. “I don’t believe you.”
“Neither do I,” Gable retorted, coming to stand beside his twin. One light, one dark, they formed a whole. “Kill the rat now, Garrett, or I will.”
“Edward had him blinded for seeing too much.” Cade sneered at them both, tingling with the need to attack. Soon. “When’re you going to be too much of a liability, Garrett?”
“Stand.” It was pushed through gritted teeth.
It’d been worth a try.
Cade lunged upward, moving to defend the expected attack. He staggered as h
e found himself bracing against thin air.
He looked at Garrett.
A muscle was beating in his jaw. “Go.”
“Garrett!” Gable was gaping like a fish, hand clenching on his sword. His hair had fallen from the queue completely, exploding down his shoulders. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Come on, Gable. How long till our dear father sees us as a liability? Come with me and leave him to the mess he’s created.”
“You traitor.” Gable’s hand balled at his sides, hate whipping into a frenzy in eyes that resembled Edward’s. “You fucking traitor.”
Garrett ignored him, sent one last look to Cade. A silent communication passed between the two before the son turned on his heel away from the office. “Traitor.”
With an angry growl, Gable turned on his brother.
Their swords connected in twin surges of power.
As their swords clashed in the midst of Gable’s livid cursing, Garrett forced his brother away from the doors.
It was agony, the fire inside unable to compete with the deafening, snarling, thumping pain that throbbed from the point of impact.
Edward’s breathing was ragged as he withdrew his sword. “Don’t worry, Alana. I won’t let you die; your genes would be useless to me. We have a specially designed freezer for phoenix in our main lab. Your wound will heal with time, but by then, you’ll be too cold to escape.” His eyes were triumphant. “The human race thanks you.”
Ana’s eyelids fluttered, hot tears behind the mask. She’d failed, and now everyone would pay the price. When the humans rose to power, the Kingdom would be torn further apart by war.
“Give me the sword now, Alana.”
Trick and Faer, Sapphy and Vander, all would be hanged. Cade would die.
No.
She spun and raised Excalibur as Edward lunged for the sword. Ana flinched as the high ruler choked.
Her hand clenched around the hilt of Excalibur, buried in his gut. Blood gushed from the wound.
His eyes were disbelieving.
Although the pain was becoming acute, Ana managed a fierce smile as she yanked the blade out. Dark blobs spun in dizzy circles around her vision.
If he was to die, let everyone know who’d sent him to hell.
And what her death would be for.
With her free hand, fingers clumsy and thick, she whipped off the mask to reveal the face of Liberty. “Fry, you bastard,” she whispered.
And set herself on fire.
The blaze was magnificent: oranges and golds, reds and pinks, all directed in an arrow at the high ruler. His scream was clear and pitched as phoenix flames surrounded him, burning skin to reveal muscle.
Ana slumped as she sucked the fire from the grate, brewing it in her hands before spinning that out too.
The fire was alive. The many rugs had caught, the walls already being licked by greedy flames as it spread. Edward’s anguished screams were dying into whimpers as it feasted on his flesh.
She swallowed and began to slide down the wall. Unable to stop the momentum, she hit with a thump that jarred the gushing wound in her belly. The pain was easing, numbing, wool wrapping warm arms around her. Edward wouldn’t have time to bandage her up and bustle her to his freezer. She considered this with the detachment of an observer, hands pressing on her cut until stained red.
Her gaze sought Edward. His head was angled in her direction as his skin charred. The stench of barbecue weaved through the heavy scent of smoke. His eyes dimmed, then faded to nothing.
She hoped the place he went to was as fiery as the one she’d created.
With a sigh that leached her remaining energy, Ana watched the lights glow and flicker as they stretched around the room. With a great groan, the ceiling crashed in, glass and plaster blending as the walls collapsed, falling on her. She couldn’t feel the sting as she lay there, breathing ragged, blood darkening the floor around her.
Her fire was all but gone. The realization should’ve flown in on wings of terror, but in the dark cocoon she lay snugged in, caring was too much effort.
Cade. Ana wished she could see him one last time, wished she could tell him she loved him. She did. She always had. What use had it been to be a coward? In those moments before death, every window to her soul was thrown open. Great swathes of air blew through to stir the cobwebs and sort out the mess.
Her parents were wrong; she’d have been a fantastic ruler. Maybe not as traditional, but kinder, more resolute in her conviction. The ability to know what was right.
She’d have had Cade at her side, whether the Houses liked it or not.
The fire was all she could hear. Smoke whispered around her like a lost friend. Emptiness where her embers had died keened. A loud crack sounded as something else bent beneath the weight of the flames.
“Alana!”
Cade’s voice.
It hurt to move, to breathe. Still, she tried. “Cade.”
Harsh coughs shredded the air. His body was a whorl of black as he wrestled with the flames. Eyes gone jackal landed on her. “Alana.”
She began to cough, sticky blood coating her tongue as internal injuries decided to kick in. “Cade, he’s dead. I killed him.”
“I need to stop the bleeding.”
She didn’t know whether he’d heard her, so she repeated it.
His gaze cut to hers with anger as palpable as the flames that surrounded her. “You think I care?” His head jerked in a negative. His hands smoothed over her body, mindful of her injuries. “You need a doctor.”
“Cade…” He knew as well as she did that she wouldn’t make it to a doctor.
“No,” he hissed, broken. “No, you aren’t allowed to leave me.” His hand was trembling as it traced her face, ignoring the burn. “You’re mine. You promised.”
“Yours.” The words were wispy. Her body felt insubstantial, like it didn’t belong to her.
“Ana,” he demanded. “Look at me.”
With effort, she met the obsidian eyes of a despairing jackal. The fire blazed around them, glass exploding in a high contrast to the deep, husky roar of the flames.
There was nothing but Cade.
“The sword’s been removed. You’re going to…to die.” His face was tinged with smoke, black as his gaze. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Her head was as heavy as a hover-car, but she wobbled a nod. Her vision blurred until the scene became watercolor.
“I love you.” His lips smashed against hers, a brief press of strength, heat, his taste. Cade. “Don’t go anywhere I can’t follow.”
Her hand reached to his face, managing to touch it briefly before the strength left her arm. “Love you,” she managed.
“Ana.” His voice broke, like her heart.
With a dim gaze, she watched as Cade stroked a trembling hand down his face and took up the sword he’d thrown down when he reached her. His whole body seemed to shake, jaw set, eyes bleak. They met hers in a silent apology.
With the last of her strength, Ana cracked a smile. She tasted blood.
Cade’s face crumpled.
Then he lunged. The sharp explosion of pain burst staggering white throughout her body. Her entire body flinched. Black began to swamp her, blinding her, numbing her.
The last sound she heard was Cade’s low cry of anguish.
The fire made it impossible to think, the burn of it choking every breath Cade dragged into his lungs. He gazed into Alana’s pallid face, at the amber dulled to bronze. Panic washed over him in thickening waves, sticky and clogging.
Dead. By my hand.
His persona as Shade might slaughter easily, but Cade had never shed an innocent drop of blood. For him to break that rule…For it to be Alana’s life that he’d taken…
His jackal barreled against Cade’s skin, growling. Snarling. Gri
eving. Tears lodged in his throat as he ignored the inferno behind him, thumb trembling as it traced the delicate edge of her cheekbone. The sword he’d left in her heart struck him as undeniably wrong, and he struggled against his jackal as it scrabbled at him to remove it.
Hold.
Fire suddenly shimmered on her skin, the last of her embers dissipating. Cade’s hand shot back before it could interrupt. As the last flames, the final essence of a phoenix dying, blinked out, a fine pearl-gray powder coated her skin. Cade rubbed his thumb and forefinger against it. Ash. The clotting process had begun.
His heart gave a vicious leap, his jackal hunting-still. Hot relief hit like a tsunami wave, crashing against him until he was dizzy with it.
It could work.
Galvanized, he leaped into motion, scooting her off his lap to lay her on one of the rugs, half-chewed by the fire. He ignored the flames; they couldn’t harm her. And if they crept onto him, he patted them away with absent irritation, like insects needing to be swatted.
Cade’s eyes whirled, landing on a shard of glass bigger than a dinner plate. Batting away the eager flames as they neared him, he reached over to snag it. The second it was in his hand, he began to brush at Alana’s skin, collecting ash on the shard, until a small heap the size of an orange mounted. He set it aside.
Cade cursed his hands when they shook, his lungs shrinking until every breath was squeezed through a throat the size of a keyhole. Coughs were hauled from him as he bent double, struggling to breathe.
The fire was intense now, a bright cascade of color. Edward was blackened and charred, the smell that of a burned carcass. The effect of phoenix fire. Smoke twirled in glee, entering Cade’s lungs as he fought to concentrate.
BREATHE.
As soon as he’d gained a modicum of control, eyes stinging against the heat and smoke, Cade gripped the hilt of the sword he’d killed her with. Braced, he yanked on the blade.
With sickening ease, it slipped free, tacky with blood and gore. Biting back bile, Cade threw it to the side and stretched to grab the pane of glass. Quickly, cursing his fumbling hands, Cade scraped the ash into the deep injury, and the gaping hole in her stomach too.
He patted it down like soil in a pot, coughing as new smoke danced down his throat.
Ashes (The Divided Kingdom) Page 30
