Darkness Awakened

by Stephanie Rowe

  Ajax nodded. "I'll find him."

  Xander fisted Ajax's shirt as Ajax started to turn away, forcing him back. Xander's blue eyes were ice cold, his mouth tight. "Don't fail, Ajax. Don't fail."

  He held Xander's gaze. "No chance. You know that."

  Xander released Ajax's shirt without another word, and Ajax was out the door before anyone else in the Order had made it to his feet. He felt Xander's gaze on his back and knew Xander was right.

  Failure was not an option.

  Not this time.

  Chapter Seven

  Madison leaned back against her futon, too weary to keep reading Pete's notes on his aborted investigation into Ashley's disappearance. She blinked several times to clear her vision, listening to the rain pounding on her roof. The drainpipe was clanging outside from the wind, and the blocked gutters were cascading water right past the living room window, making it sound like a hurricane outside instead of a simple rainstorm.

  The muted television was playing CNN endlessly. Ever since Pete's report, she'd had that television on, praying she wouldn't see her sister's face in a special news bulletin.

  Right now, it was all politics, but with each passing moment, Madison knew the odds were rising that the police would find Ashley and kill her.

  Or if the Order learned Ashley was suspected of killing Calydons, they'd hunt her down. How long would it take them to find her? Hours probably. They were ruthless hunters.

  She sighed and rubbed her temples as she glanced at the bamboo clock over the fireplace. It was nearly four in the morning. Her stomach had stopped growling hours ago, finally capitulating to the fact Madison simply wasn't going to stop to eat.

  She'd been reading Pete's reports for almost seven hours now and cross-referencing them with her notes. His reports had contained the police reports from the six murders, and she'd set up a map with all the key geographical points for the murders, flanked by a chart with all the dead Calydons and all known attributes about each one...and come up with absolutely nothing that would help her find her sister.

  She was sure Pete would see something she didn't. "Damn you," she muttered. "Damn you for quitting."

  I care about you, he'd said.

  Yeah, enough to walk away and ditch her. And he wanted to date her? A man who didn't even have the courage to stand up and do his job for her? Who needed a man who was afraid of what she was?

  Not her. Never her.

  She sat back, staring at the computer screen. What clue had she missed? Who else could she call for help? There had to be someone—

  The floor creaked down the hall, and she tensed, studying the shadows.

  Her imagination? It had to be—

  A gloved hand clamped over her mouth.

  She shrieked and clawed at her assailant's arm as she was yanked backward and thrown face down on the floor, her face shoved into the cold tile, a heavy weight pinning her to the floor.

  "Don't move," a male voice whispered in her ear. "Don't even breathe."

  Chapter Eight

  Madison gasped as her assailant grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, his hand clenched around the handle of a Calydon knife. It was a steel blade, with a handle carved with the intricate designs typical of a Calydon.

  It was the same knife that had been lodged in her shoulder the night Ashley had been kidnapped. It was the man who'd kidnapped Ashley!

  Her body went cold with fear, and at the same time, frantic hope began beating in her mind. This man had her sister! The questions tumbled out in a frantic burst. "Where's Ashley? Is she okay? What have you done to her? What—"

  His knife dug into her neck, and she clamped her lips shut.

  His teeth grazed her earlobe, then he whispered into her ear, his voice lethal. "Your assignment is to kill the Order member named Ajax and harvest his weapons." He dropped a phone onto the floor with a clatter. "Call when it's done. His address is in the phone. You have three days or your sister dies."

  Madison stiffened, and her stomach churned. Murder with her Illusions? Another death would destroy her, even if she could figure out how to summon an Illusion at will and wield it intentionally. She shuddered and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. "I can't—"

  "If you can't, there's no reason to keep your sister alive, is there?"

  Madison didn't answer, fighting down the nausea. "You don't understand, I can't—"

  His hand clamped over her mouth, then he turned her head. "For incentive."

  Madison saw Ashley slumped on the kitchen floor. Unconscious, her face bruised, wounds visible on her bare arms. Her white camisole was crusted in filth and her skin ashen.

  Dear God. "Ashley!" She began to fight her captor frantically.

  He pinned her to the floor, his knife pressing against the side of her throat, his hips crushing her beneath him. "Give me a reason."

  The raw pleasure in his voice stopped her cold. She lay there still, her ribs heaving as she fought for air.

  Her Illusions were silent. Not saving her. She hadn't eaten or slept in weeks, and she had nothing left, nothing to save herself and Ashley at the moment they needed it.

  "No? Maybe next time." He moved the knife slowly along her skin, and she flinched as he jabbed the tip into the side of her neck. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming as she felt blood trickle down her neck.

  He dropped his head and sucked at the wound.

  Oh, God, really? Was he a freaking vampire? Bile churned in her throat, but she didn't move. She just stared at her sister, willing her to move, to blink. Come on, Ashley.

  He licked his way down Madison's neck. "Answer me. Now."

  Ashley's eyes fluttered open a crack. "Madison." The whisper was barely a breath in the night and then her eyes closed again.

  Tears spilled down Madison's. "I'll do it."

  God help her, she didn't know how she'd manage it, but she'd have to find a way.

  Even if it destroyed her.

  Madison pounded her fists against the wooden door. "Wake up!" Her voice rang out in the silent neighborhood, and she saw a light flick on across the street. "It's Madison!"

  The porch light came on above her head, and Madison stepped back as the door swung open. Pete peered around the door, his hair askew, stubble thick on his face, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that he hadn't even bothered to fasten at the waist. But his eyes were alert, not a trace of sleep, even though it was after two in the morning. "What the hell are you doing? My neighbors—"

  Madison shoved past him into the living room. "Where are your guns?"

  "My what?" Pete shut the door behind her and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "What's going on?"

  Madison yanked open a cabinet, found nothing but books. "Do you have a gun powerful enough to kill an Order member?" She opened another, and another. "Dammit! Where are your guns? You must have some—"

  Pete grabbed her shoulders, pulling her away from his shelves. "Madison! Calm down—"

  She shoved his hands away. "Guns, Pete! Where are they?"

  He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the door. An immovable rock until he got what he wanted.

  "Damn you!" Madison forced herself to take a deep breath. "I had a visit from the bastard who took my sister." She lifted her chin so he could see the mark on her neck, gratified by his face paling as his gaze went to her throat. "I got an assignment from him, and now I need a gun that can kill a Calydon—"

  Pete swore and lunged for her. She yelped and jerked out of the way, but he still caught her wrist.

  "What happened? Tell me everything!" His face was dark, his jaw tense, his fingers digging into her arms.

  "There's nothing to tell," she snapped, annoyed that he felt the right to be outraged on her behalf after he'd ditched her. "The guy came with Ashley—" Her voice broke and she had to take a second to regain her composure.

  Pete swore again. "Are you okay?"

  "No! What do you think?" She took a deep breath. "I need a gu
n."

  Pete stared at her. "You aren't seriously thinking of doing it, are you?"

  "Of course I am. My sister—"

  "Is a killer."

  "How can you say that? She—"

  "It doesn't matter if she's been forced or not." His voice softened. "You know Illusionists. Once they've used their power to kill, they develop a thirst for it. They change. Their Illusions change."

  She stared at him, shocked by his beliefs, that he truly thought Illusionists were some kind of bloodthirsty predator. "She's not like that. She only does peaceful Illusions. There's no way her Illusions killed anyone—"

  "She's not the same person she was when she left. Sacrificing yourself to save her will end up getting both of you killed. She can't be saved." Pete touched her shoulder, but she jerked out of his reach.

  "I'm not planning to get killed." But her heart was pounding at his words, and her stomach felt like someone had poured cement into it. God, what was she doing? What was she thinking? Going after an Order member? But what choice did she have? She couldn't go to the police. She had no options.

  Pete gave her a long look. "Are you going to kill the Order member with an Illusion?"

  "No. I can't." She didn't miss the flicker of relief on his face. Damn him. She knew now that he'd never stand by her side if he knew what she really was. What she'd done. No one would. Her aunt Maisy had made sure Madison understood that, and she'd learned her lesson well. "What kind of gun do I need to kill an Order member?"

  He still made no effort to move. "Have you ever fired a gun?"

  "No, but I can figure it out."

  He shook his head. "Nothing you could handle would do the job, and you'd never get close enough to kill him. He'd smell your sweat and hear your heart pounding. He'd be able to taste the metal of the gun before you got within one hundred yards of him. Forget it. I'm not letting you go."

  "What about a grenade? Would that work?"

  He swore. "Jesus, Madison, I'm not letting you near one of those. You'll get yourself killed."

  "But—"

  "Besides, you wouldn't be able to get close enough to use it. He'd scent you coming."

  She clenched her hands. "I'll get close enough."

  Pete cocked his head and studied her for a moment, and his face grew dark. "You're going to seduce him? Distract him with sex?"

  She lifted her chin. "If I have to."

  "Hell, Madison. Do you have any idea what a Calydon sex drive is like? You wouldn't be able to control it. He'd consume you in a fraction of a second."

  Her belly tightened, and she couldn't stop the pulse of heat low in her body. Fear. But something else too. A fierce longing to be utterly consumed by a man strong enough to withstand all that she was. Who wouldn't be afraid of her. Who—

  No. Dammit. She didn't have time for that. She shook her head to clear it. "I know what they're like. That's why it'll work. He won't be able to think—"

  "Not just him." Pete moved closer, glaring down at her. "You won't be able to think. Not once he starts in on you. There's no way you could pull it off."

  "It's my sister. I'm pretty sure that I'll be able to stay focused when her life is at stake." She lifted her chin. "I'm going anyway. If you don't help me, I'll take a knife from my kitchen."

  He swore, then his expression grew hard with resolve. "I'll go with you. I'll take him out before he can touch you."

  "What?" She stared at him in disbelief.

  "I'll help you. Let's go."

  She didn't move, stunned by his sudden change of attitude. "Really? You're serious? You changed your mind, just like that?"

  "Yeah. Come on." When she didn't move, he raised his brows. "Or do you think you can save your sister all alone, and you don't want my help?"

  She blanched. "No, yes. I mean, yes, I want help." She didn't want to date him, but if he would help her with Ajax, she'd take it. "Thanks."

  "Let's go." He sprinted across the room, yanked open a heavy door, and charged down dark stairs to a poorly lit basement. "If I can't stop you, I'm sure as hell going to keep you alive."

  Madison followed him down the steps, then stopped when she reached the bottom of the stairs and she saw his basement. Bare cement walls...and a jail cell in the corner. Each bar was at least three inches in diameter, and heavy chains were lying on the steel floor. It looked strong enough to contain a monster. She jerked her hand out of his grasp, stopping instantly. "Pete? What is that?"

  He didn't even turn. He just strode to the other side of the basement and fiddled with the lock on a heavy steel door. "Work."

  "Work?"

  "Yeah." There was a click, and he hauled the heavy door open and stepped inside.

  Madison stared at the floor of the jail cell and saw dark stains there. Dear God. A creeping doubt began to nag at her. "Why did you change your mind about helping me?"

  "Madison! Get over here."

  There was an urgency in his voice that made goosebumps pop up on her arms, and she hurried across the floor and peered into the little room, careful not to cross the threshold, suddenly not entirely sure she wanted to get on the wrong side of that steel door with Pete.

  Then she saw what was inside the room. "Dear God."

  Shelves lined the ten-foot steel room from floor to ceiling, and each shelf was loaded with weapons. Hundreds of guns, boxes of ammunition, and wooden crates with lettering on them. "How can you possibly be afraid of my sister when you have all this hardware?" He was lying to her. He could take out her sister long before Ashley could kill him.

  He shot her a hard look. "I never said I was afraid." He turned, surveying his stash of weapons. His body was tense, energy nearly radiating off him.

  "Why won't you go after my sister, then?" Her hand edged toward the door, her fingers curling around the handle to throw it shut if Pete suddenly came after her. What was wrong with him? She'd never seen him like this. "Pete?"

  Pete yanked a crate from one of the top shelves. He pried the top off, and Madison saw a stash of grenades. He pulled a grenade out of the box and held it up. "Ordinary grenade, not an enhanced one."

  She nodded. "Okay."

  He pointed to a little ring. "See this? After you pull the pin, you get the hell away, no matter how far you throw it. I'll finish him off if he survives."

  "Got it."

  He grabbed a duffel, threw a few grenades in it and handed it to her. Still careful not to step into the room, she slung it over her shoulder while he grabbed more weapons. Guns, this time. Deadly-looking machines that looked like they'd cut down a Calydon warrior without hesitation. What was Pete doing with these kinds of weapons?

  She'd come to his house in search of a handgun, not an arsenal.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the bloodstained jail cell, and she shuddered. "Pete." Her voice was low. "What's going on?"

  He paused, his hands clenching the metal shelf, his back toward her. "Don't ask me that, Madison."

  Her fingers tightened around the door handle. "You want me to just trust you?"

  He turned his head slightly, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah."

  She paused, then remembered his words. Be careful who you trust. "It's you, isn't it? You're the one I can't trust."

  His face darkened, and he lunged toward her. Madison yelped and slammed the door shut. The metal clanged and there was a click as the lock engaged a split second before Pete slammed into the door. "Let me out, Madison." His voice was hard, utterly calm. "I'm on your team, trust me. You need me."

  "I know I do." She tightened her grip on the bag and ran across the basement toward the stairs.

  "Madison! You're going to die if you attempt this alone. You will die."

  She looked back over her shoulder at the steel door, hesitating. Knowing he was probably right. But if she let him out...would he really help her? Or did he have another agenda? She took a step toward him.

  The door rattled. "Madison! You don't know what you're getting into!"

 
; She stopped. "And you do?"

  Silence.

  Her heart began to pound. "What am I getting into?"

  More silence.

  "Pete?"

  "Open the damned door. Now."

  She hesitated. She did need his help, but could she trust him?

  There was a scuffle from inside the locked room, and Madison knew Pete was working on the door. That he'd be out in a minute. She had to leave now, or free him on her terms. Her hand went to her back pocket, where she'd shoved the phone Ashley's captor had left her. Only two and a half days left before she had to call him with Ajax's weapons in her hand.

  She couldn't afford to fail.

  She couldn't afford to make the choice that slowed her down. Could she trust Pete or not?

  Pete pounded on the door. "Madison!"

  She thought of Ashley's battered body and made her decision.

  Chapter Nine

  Twenty-hours later, Ajax hadn't found a trace of Viktor. He hadn't even been able to contact him through their blood bond, which meant Viktor was blocking him.

  Four more hours, and the Order would be after them both.

  There was one place left to check, and if Ajax came up dry there, he was out of ideas. His Escalade bounced up the rutted road that led to his cabin, hidden deep in the woods of southeast Oregon. Each lurch of the car gave Ajax a painful reminder of the wound in his neck from Viktor's weapon, an injury he hadn't taken the time to heal properly.

  He'd used his healing capacities to take care of the worst of it, and he'd finish it up in a healing trance when he had time.

  Time wasn't something he had right now.

  He pulled his truck into the garage, then began the five-mile hike through the dense foliage toward his cabin. Only a select few knew how to find his place, and Viktor was one of them. Ajax was banking on the fact that Viktor had staked out Ajax's cabin in an attempt to finish the job he'd started.