Midnight Burn: a New Adult Paranormal Romance Novel (Gothic Angels)

by Ashur Rose

  She heard a distant but distinct sound. The executioner must have heard it as well, as it stayed his hand. It was the sound of a hammer on rock. It clinked, softly, and again. Lilith couldn’t see, but she knew that someone was trying to breech the wall of the torture chamber.

  “Don’t let that encourage you. The wall is two feet thick. Nothing can break through in time to save you.”

  Iain could, she knew. Zorn’s bastard knew it as well.

  “But just to be sure, let’s finish this.”

  She heard a whistling swish in the air. The sting on her feet between the balls and heels was like no pain she’d ever felt. How could anything hurt so bad?

  Again, the whip through the air, the crack on her soles, white hot lines burning. It made the rest of her suffering fade by comparison. Tears ran down her cheeks, mingling with sweat and blood.

  At the next hissing in the air, her brain filled with blue, her speak bursting. Lilith barely held back in time. But no lash came.

  “Oh, I actually felt that. You came so close to losing it. I’ve got you now, Lily.”

  “Fuck you!” she screamed.

  “You know, when you free Dad, he’s going to be so royally pissed, he’ll grind your stony playmates to dust. Let’s give your boyfriend a few minutes at the wall. In the meantime, we’ll play a little game. It’s called, ‘When Are My Feet Going to Be Whipped?’”

  Again, the air sounded with a swing. The rip to her bound feet ran through her like electricity. Her speak grew to bursting. Lilith held back. But she knew she couldn’t for much longer.

  The whip whistled. She tensed, hanging on. No impact. Yet the speak surged, making her grunt with the effort to contain it.

  The sound of steel on rock fell louder. She had to give Iain enough time to break through. She had to hold back or risk releasing the full fury of a freed Zorn on the Drygs.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  IAIN

  A HAMMER THAT COULD crack the living stone of a Dryg made quick work of the wall. Each of Iain’s blows showered flakes and shards. Even with the wound to his shoulder, he went at it with frenzied strikes. As rubble piled to his ankles, the army of shades closed the distance with Cree.

  “We should be happy that bows can’t exist in this place,” Raze said. “They have to get within throwing distance.”

  The words didn’t comfort Iain. Even in the narrow tunnel, more javelins could fly than they could dodge. Once the poison metal took its toll, the fight would be finished. Raze was right. If Iain could get through this newly-formed stone, the three of them could dodge inside. Make the shades bring the fight to the Drygs. It would give them half a chance.

  Putting his whole body behind each hit, the wall began to crumble.

  His efforts were not nearly fast enough.

  Air hissed with thrown missiles, the clank of sorainese steel on stone. He dared a glance. Cree picked up a spear and hurled it back. They were still out of range. It gave Iain maybe a minute to bust through the wall.

  There was no way in The Nether he could do that.

  Redoubling his efforts, he attacked the stone, smashing chunks of it loose, dislodging the monolithic blocks. From behind, he heard a din of clattering. Cree’s shout of triumph. He knew it meant his brother had batted away a flight of spears. As the shades closed, that trick would soon fail.

  With a full-bodied blow that stole a grunt from him, Iain smashed through to the other side. It was only a tiny fissure. Air howled in the tunnel, the superheated atmosphere rushing into the cold space beyond. The buffeting would affect the shades’ aim. He had perhaps bought them another few seconds.

  “Cree, fall back!” Raze shouted.

  Too late. The shades had made their range. In moments, Iain expected a javelin between his shoulder blades. He felt Cree and Raze retreat to his side. Iain kept up his effort.

  “Help me,” Raze said.

  Iain swung, catching a glimpse of the two Drygs piling the larger blocks. Building cover. It still wasn’t enough. A ripper-tipped spear glanced off the wall in front of Iain.

  Time was up.

  Cree and Raze returned the thrown weapons with much greater strength and accuracy, bringing screams from the oncoming enemy. Their efforts were met by return throws. A tined tip scudded through the skin of Iain’s calf.

  “It’s been a pleasure fighting with you, brothers,” Raze said. “It’s an honor to die with you in battle.”

  Iain refused to stop. The scent of black currant drifted on the wind between the hot and cold spaces. She was within reach. His pure. Only death could stop him—even if death was now upon him.

  Cree covered him, slapping javelins from the air. Raze took the offensive, returning weapons, hurling large chunks of rock. Pathetic as their last battle became, they would die honorably.

  A roar shook the cave.

  “What in the Phyrss is that?” Cree asked, knocking a javelin aside with a broken haft.

  For a heartbeat, spears stopped falling. Whispered mutters echoed from the shades. And then screams.

  From around the bend in the tight cave, a figure strode, grabbing shades in each huge clawed hand and ripping them apart. Its shoulders brushed the walls as it moved, its head ducked to avoid the ceiling. A gray aura the color of shadowed snow waded among the enemy with devastating effect.

  Steele!

  Except this creature was far too large to be their brother, even in full Dryg form. With an ear-splitting howl, the thing released a blaze of white-hot fire the brothers could feel from yards distant.

  Shades went up in flames like tinder, writhing and shrieking as they fell.

  Iain tore himself from the mesmerizing sight, attacking the wall with renewed vigor. They had an ally—and a chance.

  Stone shattered and fell as Iain took to it with maniacal force. The fissure opened to a fist-sized hole. Iain slammed it wider and wider, a frigid wind flying in his face, steam rushing out.

  Behind him, more screaming, more heat on his back, but no more swooping, clattering spears. He had a good start, but he and his brothers needed a hole as wide as the wall itself to slip through.

  On the other side, he caught a glimpse that froze his soul in utter horror. Lilith lay tied to a torture rack. She was naked, bleeding, covered in wounds, limbs stretched to a trembling tension. A figure in executioner black stood at her feet. As the mallet crashed through again, the figure turned.

  “Bastard,” Iain screamed, delivering another crashing clout.

  The executioner returned to his victim. In his raised hand, there was a glowing length of hide. With a furious motion, he lashed the whip across Lilith’s feet.

  She screamed in pain and Iain felt every octave of her cry soak through his being. As he struck a wider hole, he saw her glow with blue fire.

  “Lilith, don’t!” he shouted. Again, he brought the mallet down. “I’m coming for you! I’m almost there!”

  Behind him, shades that fled the monstrous thing at the far end of the cave now met up with Cree and Raze. In their panic, the shades were easily dispatched. Iain refused to be distracted, even if it meant a blade in the back. The hole was probably large enough to squirm through, but he couldn’t take the chance of getting stuck. Not with Zorn’s bastard torturing Lilith.

  “You’re mine, bastard!” With a mighty shout, Iain swung the mallet with strength beyond his exhausted, overheated body. Stone blasted inward. It was enough. It had to be enough. He launched himself through, his frantic motion crumbling more of the wall around him. With a cloud of stone dust, he entered the chamber, racing for the executioner.

  The black-clad man brought his weapon around, a semi-flexible whip that glowed red hot. Iain saw it was formed of sorainese-infused steel the moment before it cracked across his throat.

  Staggered by the thin weapon, Iain missed his grab. Zorn’s bastard whirled away. His robes folded in on themselves, and the demon vanished from the chamber.

  He hurried to Lilith’s side. She looked half-dead.
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  “The crank on the right,” she wheezed.

  Iain twisted it, but it did not turn. “Shit,” he breathed.

  We need to make a break for it, brother, Raze reached.

  “Fucking tell me about it,” Iain said under his breath. To Lilith, he said, “I’m just going to cut the ropes.”

  “No!” she cried. “Please, it has to be slow. I don’t know if I’ll survive a sudden motion.”

  He couldn’t see what he was doing, damn it, just the basic shape of the rack, the wheels, the glowing white aura of Lilith, swirled with the intense blue of her speak.

  “I need to touch you. I need your vision.” Iain said. “I’ll be gentle, but I can’t see how to unlock this fucking thing.”

  “Okay.”

  With his left hand, he reached for her cheek. She winced away.

  “Too hot!” Her voice was tiny, but he snatched his hand from her.

  “The wheel is some kind of ratchet,” she managed. “It must have some kind of brake.”

  Iain fumbled at the mechanism—a bar of steel lodged to keep the wheel from losing tension. He knocked it free. This time, when he turned the wheel, he heard it clack. Lilith groaned. “Oh, Jesus, that hurts.”

  Iain, now!

  “I’m sorry, della, but I have to get you out of here.”

  He relaxed the wheel another click. Lilith whimpered, breathing deeply. It had to be enough. Unsheathing his stone claws, Iain cut the ropes to her manacles. With a high-pitched wail, Lilith dropped her arms. He made quick work of the ropes to her ankle restraints and her mass fell into his arms.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  LILITH

  THIS ISN’T GOING TO be easy. It might be hot enough to kill you in The Nether. I can’t heal you here. I can’t even heal myself.” Iain spoke to her, his body a wavering heat mirage.

  “I knew you’d come.”

  As he reached to scoop her up, Lilith felt the heat of his stone body sear her skin. Against her will, she barked in pain. He was too hot to the touch, like a stone that hemmed a campfire.

  He paced around the rack as she tried her limbs. Her muscles screamed. Harsh smoke burned down her windpipe, the air itself scorching. However she’d gotten here, Lilith didn’t know if she could survive the journey out again.

  “Maybe you can insulate yourself with my clothes,” she said. “Over here.” Her arms were too weak to gesture, so she angled her head.

  As she watched, Iain reached down, fumbling at her shredded outfit. She started as the cloth ignited in his hands.

  “What do I do, Raze? My body’s too hot to lift her.”

  “You’ll have to burn her, then. We need to go.”

  “What about Steele?” Cree said.

  “I don’t think Steele is… Steele enough to understand. He’s gone Bromork now. I don’t think I’d want to get close to him myself while he’s like this.”

  Lilith had no idea what was going on. There wasn’t time to ask questions.

  “I can’t bear to hurt you, Lilith. But I feel the night ending. My body’s been poisoned. Our options are limited.”

  Limited to suffocating down here or being cooked to death in Iain’s blistering embrace—Lilith didn’t like the choices.

  “Phyrss damn me, if I had the strength, I’d carry this whole infernal contraption,” Iain said. He put his hands on it, lifting experimentally. Grunting, he set it down. “No way.”

  It suddenly dawned on her, the way the bastard had manipulated the torture device. “You don’t need to. It’s on wheels, Iain; you can just push me out.”

  Bone-jarring, gut-churning, a roar filled the hollows of The Nether. Lilith started at the sound. She remembered hearing lions and tigers roar in the big cat house at the zoo. That predatory sound vibrated all the way to ancient DNA, inspiring panic. This sound made the big cats’ roar sound like a gentle purr in comparison.

  Maybe suffocating would be better than facing whatever waited outside the torture chamber.

  Regardless, Iain put his weight behind the rack and rolled it toward the hole in the wall.

  Lilith gripped the binding straps as the rudimentary wheels thudded and rocked over the rubble on the floor. Grunting and straining, Iain moved the rack closer. The hole was barely wide enough to allow his body through. The torture device was too wide.

  “I’ll just have to walk,” she said. Getting off the rack proved a tough task, her insulted muscles barely responding. Once she got her feet on the floor, she wobbled and dropped to her knees. Fighting past the pain was one thing, as every part of her was one solid block of boiling torment. But her frame, her joints, were damaged beyond function.

  Iain’s rock visage pulled into crags of distress.

  “You need to go,” she said. “Before daylight. You can hardly carry me, and I can’t be carried anyway. If I’m dead, I can’t be used as a key.”

  “I have to try to get you out,” Iain said, reaching for her with hands that raised a prickle as they neared.

  “Iain, wait.” Raze stopped him, wiggling through the crack in the wall. Lilith heard his flesh crackle and pop with the difference in temperature.

  He knelt close to her. “Damn, kid, what did they do to you?” Raze whispered.

  “I think Steele’s keeping the cave clear, but we have to go, brothers,” Cree called.

  “We can do this. Lilith, don’t think about this, just answer my question. Since being able to speak, have you ever been burned? Pan on the stove, boiling water, a cigarette lighter, sunburn?”

  “No,” she said. She cast back into her memories. Lilith, in fact, could never recall being burned.

  “This will hurt a lot, but we’ll get you out alive.” Raze stood. For a moment, he gazed into the flaming pit in the floor. Spitting mud at it, he turned to the rack. His hands brought smoke from the wood as he explored. Then, with two hard blows, he broke the device apart.

  Iain’s face opened as he understood. “A stretcher.”

  “Just enough to get her out of this room.” Raze pounded another plank off and yanked a few leather restraints free, the hide sizzling in his grip. He wrapped them around the back of the stretcher and dropped the frame to the floor. “Here. Can you tie yourself down?”

  Lilith didn’t know. Blood now returned to her fingers like the crawling of ants. Her arms were floppy, burning, shaking. She managed a fairly firm knot.

  “If we carry this through The Nether, we’ll both be indefensible targets,” Iain said.

  “No.” Raze picked up his end. “Just you.”

  Together, the Banes angled Lilith through the hole in the wall. In the narrow cave, she felt the temperature climb quickly. Acrid smoke sizzled her nose, her throat. She choked, trying to get a breath.

  “Double time, Iain, let’s go.” Raze headed up the tight passage. “Cree, scout ahead!”

  After a moment, his voice echoed back. “We’re clear to the scrying cave, but we gotta move!”

  Lilith felt every step, every slight jostle sending a wave of anguish through her limbs. The atmosphere tasted poisonous, her lungs balking at each inhalation. She could only hold on to the very slight hope that the Drygs could get her back to Earth.

  Winding through a glowing stone labyrinth, they reached a circular chamber. A huge, overturned cauldron blocked the entrance. Raze nodded, and he and Iain set the makeshift stretcher down.

  “I think we’re far enough away,” Raze breathed.

  Iain asked, “Far enough for what?”

  Raze turned to Lilith, his carven face still rippling with heat. “The bastard was trying to torture the speak out of you.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was as if he’d got into her head and saw it there. “My speak is…

  Hellfire? She heard a voice inside her head say. Not just any voice, Raze’s voice. It would’ve freed Zorn if you used it?

  Lilith looked at Raze and then Iain. “How is he…”

  “He just can.”

  “Thank the Phyrss you held up. You’r
e nearly as tough as a Bane.” Raze smiled.

  Again, the heart-seizing roar shook the air, making them all start. Cree darted from an intersecting tunnel. “Nothing but carnage all the way to the portal. But daylight’s coming. We gotta move or we’re done.”

  Raze nodded at his brother and turned eyes on Lilith. “I know you’ve struggled to keep the power in. But now you have to let go. We have to move fast, and there’s no way we’re carrying this thing fast.”

  The eldest Bane gained his feet, clambering over the upended cauldron.

  “What about Lilith?” Iain squinted.

  “Pick her up. Let’s move out.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  IAIN

  “What?”

  Raze disappeared into the opposite tunnel without a word.

  He crouched over Lilith, imagining the flush rise in her face at his nearness.

  “It’s okay. I think I know what Raze is talking about.” Lilith raised her arms to him.

  The quivering limbs hurt his heart. But what choice did they have? Iain felt the sorainese breaking him down, his strength dwindling. He could feel the sun blazing just below the horizon, even down here.

  He lifted her, expecting Lilith to cry out at his incinerating touch.

  To his shock, a bright blue glow suffused his hands, his arms, his chest, everywhere their bodies touched. Her speak, this time not reaching out as a weapon, but cloaking her against the heat.

  Lilith made tiny grunts at the motion, her strained limbs feeling the shock of his racing steps. He tried to cradle her more gently, the strain of it taxing his failing strength.

  Tunnels rose upward, twisting and turning like guts turned to stone. His boots pounded up the incline, soles smoking, jeans smoldering. Breathless, he reached the top of the asymmetric spiral passage and raced out into the massive chamber. He put Sorain behind him, running after the distant figures of Cree and Raze.

  “I’m sorry,” Lilith whispered. “Sorry I ran away. There are things you don’t know about me. We have a lot to talk about.”

  If we live, Iain didn’t say. Lilith ordinarily wouldn’t encumber him at all. He could even take flight with her in his arms. But now, she felt as if she weighed as much as a full-form Dryg. His feet stumbled as he mounted the hodgepodge of the smooth and jagged stone of the lava floe.