Dizziness hit him hard, and he had to grip the table to keep his balance. Shit. He had to get out. Had to get away. He knew that dizziness. He knew what followed...
"Viktor, Viktor, Viktor." Charles leaned forward. "Tell me how you feel about Ajax. Your best friend, no?" There was a deep curiosity underlying his question, as if he wasn't sure what Viktor's answer would be. "Or do you hate him enough to kill him?"
"Shut up!" Viktor jumped to his feet as rage exploded inside him, a hatred so strong that he could feel it blackening his own heart. Hatred for Ajax— No! "I don't hate him! Fuck!"
He hurled the bag of weapons at Charles so hard that Charles went over backward with a grunt of pain. Viktor lunged for Charles, but before he could reach him, his brain exploded with agony. He fell to his knees, digging his fingers into his head as he screamed with pain.
He rocked back and forth, fighting against the bile rising in his throat—
A sharp prick in his neck made Viktor jerk his head up. Charles was above him, holding a dagger at his throat. "You aren't nearly under the control Reidar said you were. He's a fool to think he can control you and Bezoar."
Viktor stared at Charles, and a pulsing hatred coursed through him, a violent rage directed entirely at Charles. Something in his mind told him he wasn't in control of his rage, that it wasn't his. He knew he wasn't right, but he didn't care. He just knew one thing. Charles had to die.
Charles's eyes widened. "Son of a bitch. You're turning that hatred on to me. Reidar's such a fool to think he can control you!" He grabbed the bag of weapons and bolted out the back door.
Viktor stood up, his mind settling into predator mode. He would have Charles, and it would be over.
He turned toward the door, then felt a strange pull from inside the room. Something needing his attention. His body itching to go after Charles, he scanned the room, not sure what he was looking for, but unable to stop himself from doing it.
Everyone was staring at him, beers frozen in their hands, darts hanging limply from fingertips. He growled, and the patrons jerked their gazes off him and pretended not to have been staring.
Viktor searched for another moment, confusion warring with the anger boiling inside him. He saw a lanky man loitering in the shadows by the door, wearing dark glasses.
Viktor's senses went on high alert, and he knew that was his target.
He took a step toward the man, who pulled off his sunglasses the minute he realized Viktor was looking at him. Icy blue eyes stared back at Viktor, and Viktor stopped in mid-stride, suddenly confused. Not sure what he was doing. The man's blue eyes were compelling, mesmerizing, dragging Viktor into them...
Rage at Charles exploded inside Viktor, overwhelming every other thought.
With a howl of fury, he whirled around and bolted after Charles.
He threw open the door and stepped out into the dark forest that surrounded the bar. There was no sign of Charles, so Viktor faded instinctively into the shadows of the trees, reaching out with his senses.
The night was still, the silence broken only by the scrabble of rodent feet, the hoot of an owl.
There was a scuffle from the left, and Viktor spun in that direction, his throwing star in his palm.
A woman stumbled around the base of a large pine tree about thirty yards away and went down on her knees. Her face was bruised, her shirt was torn, her eyes desperate and haunted. Her dark hair was tangled around her shoulders, stuck to the blood that ran down the side of her face.
She lifted her head and looked right at him, her silver eyes glistening with suffering and hopelessness that penetrated right through the fury consuming him. Unable to think of anything but relieving her torment, he started right for her.
"No!" She held up her hand to stop him, her voice so innocent and pure he stopped dead in his tracks, something inside him literally snapping at the most beautiful sound he'd heard in his life. "It's a trap. Leave. Please, just leave. Illusions."
A chill ran down Viktor's spine at her warning, something deep inside his mind registering her words, realizing he couldn't take one more hit.
He had to run.
Couldn't stay.
Not even for her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
"This is Nightshade Tavern." Ajax brought the truck to an abrupt stop along the edge of the parking lot.
Madison sat up and peered out the window, squinting past the high-speed wipers. It was too dark and rainy to see much besides the glow from the headlights on the pavement.
She rolled down the window so she could see better. The sign for the bar hung at an angle, and most of the fluorescent red letters were burned out, but she could see enough letters to guess they'd arrived at Nightshade Tavern.
The windows were blackened, rain was rattling off the metal roof, and a steady stream of water was pouring off the clogged gutters, right over the front door.
Ajax threw open his door and stepped silently out onto the mud.
He shut the door, then stood immobile by the truck, the energy around him so charged Madison could feel it humming. His muscles were rigid, his pulse throbbing in his throat, and she knew he was in full warrior mode, assessing his environment.
Hope leapt through her as she became aware of the full extent of his power. Ajax could stop the man who had kidnapped Ashley. With him, she had a chance. Dear God, she had a chance.
She quickly slid out of the truck, her feet sinking into the mud. The air was damp and wet, and she could hear the rush of a nearby river.
She frowned, squinting as the bright headlights of another car flashed across Ajax's face. It pulled into the lot, drove past them, then swung around and backed into a spot at the end of the row, just down from where Ajax had parked at the curb. It was a black truck like Ajax's, with a gun rack in the back window and a big steel toolbox in the bed of the truck.
A hand closed over the back of her neck, and she jumped, spinning around to find Ajax behind her. She hadn't even heard him approach.
"Viktor's here." There was an eager edge to his voice, his body practically vibrating with the need to go inside. Yet he was deathly still, utterly disciplined.
His face glowed bright in the headlights, and she could see his concentration in the tense lines around his eyes.
The headlights turned off, and he faded into the darkness again.
"Are there any Illusions active?" His words were low, a whisper in the night.
She hesitated, realizing for the first time the risk she'd created by claiming she could detect Illusions. What if she gave the wrong answer right now? She should tell him the truth and suggest he rely on his own instincts.
But she was too afraid his willingness to keep her around was based on the fact he thought she could help him find Viktor. She couldn't tell him the truth, because it was her only value to him at this point.
He was her best chance to find her sister, and she would do whatever it took to make herself invaluable to him.
A lie as to whether she could sense Illusions or not seemed a small price to pay, and she would just have to pray she didn't make the wrong call. But as she looked at Ajax, regret was thick in her throat. She didn't want to lie to him. He was worth so much more than lies.
But she knew she had no choice and gave the lowest risk answer. "Yes, there's an Illusion somewhere around here. I don't know what it is, though." At least that way, he'd be ready for whatever came.
He swore under his breath. "The damn weapons are actually burning this time," he muttered. "Figures." He turned her toward him, his hand still cupping the back of her neck, his gaze intense. "Listen to me."
She raised her eyes to his, her throat tightening at the intensity on his face.
"If you need me, yell. I'll be listening for you." Then he dropped his head, kissed her hard, then took off in a ground-covering sprint and disappeared into the shadows beneath the overhang before she could react.
She stared after him, her chest aching for what he made her want, for what
she was a fool to even think about: safety, being protected, being accepted for who she was. The reality was that he was a warrior of honor, of worth. She was a lying murderer, and she would never be enough for him.
All he was to her, all she could allow him to be was a tool to get her sister back, because falling for him and then having him see her as she really was, to see the loathing and disgust in his eyes...it would break her.
It was hard enough to get through the day hating herself. Allowing him to matter to her, and then knowing he hated her as well...she'd never survive it.
So, this would be only about Ashley. Find her sister, and retreat to a safe place. Leave Ajax behind before the truth could destroy her.
Up ahead, he emerged from the shadows of the bar and looked right at her, as if he could see her through the darkness, which he probably could.
Her belly tightened, and then he turned away and slipped inside the front door, a mere breath of movement in the darkness.
She shifted her weight restlessly, wanting to go after him, to search for any answers about Ashley that might be there, but she would only slow him down. This was his world, his expertise. He was the one with the tools to deal with the deadly Calydons stalking her and Ashley—
Madison shivered as she looked around at the dark woods surrounding them, realized how exposed she was. What if it was a trap? What if—
A familiar energy burst over her skin...liquid sunshine.
"Ashley?" Madison turned, her heart racing, searching the sky for a peaceful Illusion. She saw a faint glow in the air behind the bar, and knew it was her sister's Illusion, building more slowly than usual, but glowing steadily.
Joy exploded through her and she ran toward the bar. "Ashley! I'm coming! I'm here!"
Then the warmth faded, and a sinister darkness began to creep across her skin, and horror welled deep inside Madison as she realized that Ashley's Illusion was becoming deadly. "No!"
Leaving the injured woman behind was not an option. Viktor knew it in his gut, no matter how many Illusions were coming after him.
He had to retrieve her.
His senses tuned to any possible threats, Viktor hauled ass across the clearing to the woman, ignoring her protests, her attempts to scramble back from him as he neared.
His throwing star at the ready, Viktor crouched beside her. "I'm not going to hurt you," he told her. "I'm going to help you." Without waiting for a reply, he reached out to pick her up.
His fingers brushed over the bare skin of her arm, and his head cleared instantly. He blinked, startled by the sudden clarity.
His fury and outrage at Charles vanished, he knew with absolute certainty that he hadn't murdered anyone, that he hadn't harvested those weapons. He remembered a man named Reidar giving him the bag, then dumping him at Nightshade Tavern. He knew it was Reidar who'd been lurking in the corner, that it was Reidar responsible for his hell.
And Viktor knew he'd tried to kill Ajax.
The woman struggled in his grasp, drawing his attention back to her. He quickly lifted her, running his hand down her arm. Every touch brought him more sanity, more mental control. Her body trembled against his, and he cradled her to his chest, afraid to damage this gift that had brought him back his mind. "What's your name?" His voice was barely a whisper, reverent, stunned by what she gave him.
"Ashley Locke." She shoved at his shoulder, her efforts weak and puny against him. "You have to get away from here. It's a trap!"
"Good. I like traps." Viktor's senses were on high alert, and he breathed in the night, empowered by the clarity of his mind. He smiled, knowing Charles wouldn't be prepared for him at his deadliest. "Who did this to you?"
"Let me go!" She fought against him, her body twisting. He could hear the hammering of her fragile heart. "He's going to kill you!"
"No. I'll kill him. It was Charles, wasn't it?" A new anger rose within him as he looked down at the bruises on her face.
It was a black fury that was controlled and contained, that he recognized as his own, not something manufactured. Just an untainted hate for the bastard who'd hurt this woman who'd given him such a gift. He shifted her until she was pinned against him, his arms flexing with the effort of immobilizing her, careful, so careful not to hurt her. He stared down at her, aware of her breasts anchored against his chest, of the warmth of her small body. "I'm not leaving you behind." He kept his voice as gentle as possible, wanting to take away her fear.
Her eyes widened with the realization that he truly wasn't going to abandon her, and Viktor saw such hope on her face that something ached in his own chest. "No more suffering," he promised.
"What's your name?" Ashley whispered, her hands going to his shoulders, her fingers digging in, as if she would never let him go.
"Viktor."
"You don't understand. He—" She broke off with a groan, and Viktor tightened his grip on her at the sudden terror emanating from her.
"What's wrong?" He lifted his head, scanning the forest for Charles, but sensed no one in the immediate vicinity.
Ashley sagged against him, wrapping her arms around his neck, clinging to him with a need that made him hold her even more securely. He needed to protect her, keep her safe. Charles would suffer for what he'd done.
"It's coming." She pressed her face to his chest. "I'm so sorry. I can't stop it."
"What's coming?" Viktor tucked Ashley closer against him as he raised his throwing star, searching the night for the impending threat, hoping it was Charles. Praying it was Charles.
"An Illusion," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I can't stop it."
He jerked his gaze to her, his skin going cold despite the fact he was still holding her against his bare skin. "You're an Illusionist?" He was unable to keep his voice even, and Ashley jerked her head up to look at him.
Her eyes filled with tears at whatever she saw on his face. "What did they do to you?"
He stared at her, stunned by the understanding on her face. She knew. Without a word from him, and she knew about what had happened to him, what he'd done, what the Illusionist had torn from him all those years ago.
Before Viktor could answer, the sky thundered, and rain began pouring down out of it. Viktor held out his hand, then realized it wasn't rain.
It was blood.
Ajax stepped inside the bar, gave the room a steady inspection as all eyes went to him. There were about forty people inside, mostly men, and all with jeans, grizzled faces and ragged hair. These were men who knew how to defend their territory and didn't like to share.
Men who recognized the Order and were smart enough to stay out of the way and not ask questions when they came to toss back a few.
Some of them he recognized from prior visits, others were new. One scent near the door caught his attention. Familiar. He rolled it over in his mind, realized it was a scent he'd picked up at Faulk's club. Someone who'd been at both places? The man with the sunglasses who had been watching Viktor? The man Ajax had allowed to walk away. It was fresh, but the man was gone now.
Ajax swore under his breath as he found Viktor's scent.
It was acrid and bitter, the scent of fear and fury. Guilt hit him hard, burning in his gut like acid. Only Illusions would have fucked with Viktor that much, and it had been Ajax's job to protect his blood brother from that threat.
He would not fail Viktor the way he'd failed his uncle Enzo and his family.
It all ended now.
He strode across the room, tracking Viktor's scent to a table at the back, where it was mixed with another one...
An ancient Calydon. As old as time. Older even than Zion.
What the hell were they dealing with?
Both warriors had left out the back door, and Ajax called out his swords as he headed after them.
"Ajax!"
He spun around at the frantic shout, saw Madison running across the room, her face desperate. His gut dropped in sheer terror at the panic on her face, and he was on her before she'd made it halfway across t
he room, catching her as she threw herself at him, instinctively pulling her into the shield of his body. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"I'm okay. Out back," she gasped, pointing at the door. "Ashley. Dark Illusion."
Viktor being faced with a dark Illusion when he was already on the edge?
He'd never survive.
Ajax set Madison aside and ran.
Praying he wouldn't be too late this time.
Viktor pulled Ashley tight against him, using his body to shield her from the onslaught from the heavens, his Calydon instincts forcing him to protect her, despite her revelation.
She was an Illusionist.
He should kill her, take her out, destroy her...and he couldn't. Had to protect her. Keep her safe. Anger, hatred, terror, violence hammered at his mind as the Illusion grew, and still he couldn't let her go.
The blood rain pounded against his skin, and he realized it had shifted. Millions of microscopic blades, slicing through his skin, shredding it like it was made of paper. Cutting through his flesh, his muscles, soon bone. Chopping him to pieces...
The pain was astounding, but he didn't flinch, bending over Ashley, creating a shield to protect her.
He shuddered at the thought of who she was. Why was he saving her? He should be killing her. Stopping the Illusion.
Couldn't.
Had to keep her safe. Didn't know why. Just had to be—
Ashley squirmed in his grip. "No! It can't hurt me! I need to protect you."
His head was screaming, monsters circling in his mind. Words spilled out of him in some ancient language he didn't even recognize. He knew his mind was fragmenting, and he couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the disintegration. Felt the demons closing in on him as the Illusion built.
Had to get Ashley to safety. Nothing else mattered.
"Stop!" Ashley was crying now, her tears mixing with the blood on her face. "For God's sake, stop helping me! Just kill me, and it'll stop."
Viktor looked down, saw the shiny metal blades lodged in his boots. The blades began to move, to wiggle, and he realized they were alive. Not stabbing him. Eating him. Teeth, their eyes, beady and red, sent from the devil himself.
Darkness Awakened Page 15
