Bloodflower

by K. J. Harrowick

  The cockpit glass shifted from trees to a familiar face, spiked brown hair and a clean-shaved jaw.

  Bradshaw met her gaze, something he’d never done the whole duration of her captivity. “You killed my tracker.”

  “And you stole my life, you pretentious fuck.” Jàden slammed the console as Jon moved behind her, pressing the butt of the gun into her hand. “Turn off the Flame barrier.”

  “Not a chance.” Bradshaw seemed distracted by something on his screen, and Jàden imagined him putting a fleet in the air.

  Jon had already been beat to hell, and who knew if Éli was still alive.

  She grabbed Jon and pulled him in front of her, pressing the gun to his temple. “I found the spark, and you can’t open the gate without us.”

  Her heart lurched putting Jon’s face on Bradshaw’s camera, but he likely already knew everything Frank did.

  “Call off your fleet and release the ship,” she said, “or I’ll kill him and then me.”

  Bradshaw’s features hardened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Jàden slid her finger over the trigger and moved the gun barrel from Jon’s head to hers. “Watch me.”

  Bradshaw cursed and slammed his console.

  The lights flickered on, and the door swished open.

  “This isn’t over, Ravenscraft,” he said. “I know where you are.”

  “We have control,” Braygen said, pressing several buttons. “Barrier off.”

  “You’d better run, Doc,” she whispered. The Flame’s power crackled through her veins. “I’m coming for you.”

  “I’ll find you first.”

  She pressed a hand against the wall as the Flame’s power surged through the shield holds. Lights flickered on, and the gravity pulled her down. Sparks flew across the console and down the corridor walls.

  “You bitch—” The rest of Bradshaw’s words were lost as the glass shattered outward, the hull above their head cracking open.

  Jon hit the ground, groaning in pain.

  Letting go of the ship, Jàden dropped next to him and pulled his mouth to hers. Warmth bled into her senses, his beard prickling her jaw. “You all right?”

  “You found me, and I ain’t never letting you out of my sight.” He tightened his grip, deepening their kiss until she could barely breathe.

  Thomas shouted outside. “Captain?”

  “In here.” She helped Jon to his feet and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “We need to get off this ship.”

  As the Flame ebbed from her veins, Éli’s power surged, and Jon stumbled against her. “Flames. Must bond.”

  The ache burned in her chest as they stepped into the corridor. She leaned Jon against the wall and grabbed the bloodflower from Frank’s hand, slipping the chain over her neck.

  Frank’s collar lay open, a chain around his hairy chest.

  Braygen crouched over him, light pulsing over his palm. He slid a finger beneath the chain and pulled out an obsidian orb dangling on the end, pale blue light glowing from deep inside it.

  “You gotta be shittin’ me,” Jàden muttered.

  She’d once found a necklace with a small blue stone chipped from something much larger. The day she put it around her neck, everything changed.

  “What is that?” Jon held his stomach like he was about to throw up. “Is that a gate key?”

  Everything suddenly made a twisted kind of sense.

  “It’s the beginning,” she whispered.

  Dread tightened her stomach as Braygen pulled the pendant over his head. His stormy eyes found hers, that deep alien connection they shared forcing the words from her mouth.

  “Don’t ever let anyone know you have that,” she said.

  “Anything for you, Jàden.” He grabbed the blood-bound blade and handed it to Jon. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  CHAPTER 58

  Shadowrunner

  “You fought well,” Jon whispered as they stepped into the cage room, blood and dead bodies everywhere. She hadn’t stopped fighting and even killed the man who fueled her worst nightmares.

  But dark power slid through him like oil as his vision blurred. “We need to find Éli.”

  And hope he was still alive.

  Jon could barely keep himself upright as they searched the bay, the Enforcers dead. Dark cracks with burn marks covered several sections of glass as if something small and hard hammered into them.

  “Gunshots,” Jàden muttered. “Hang in there, Jon. We’ll find him.”

  He let go of her and leaned against the wall, her soft whisper of breath leaving him. With the Flame barrier turned off, the sickness from the past week was back. “How long before Bradshaw finds us?”

  “Not long.” She spun in several directions then grabbed his hand and pointed toward a dark blot sitting against the far wall.

  Death seemed to linger over his shoulder. Her light barely touched the darkness.

  But he stumbled onward. He had to complete the binding.

  Éli sat against a far wall, his hand to his side and sweat on his brow. He gripped the gun in his hand and aimed at Jon. “These things kill faster than you can reach me.”

  Jon nudged Jàden out of the way and crouched so the gun was pointed only at him. “I don’t regret protecting my mother. But I do regret what you lost.”

  Éli snarled. “Don’t lie to me, Jon. The only reason you haven’t joined Sebastian is you are going to feel this anguish.”

  “I do. Every day.” It wasn’t a lie, and the pain of Mather’s death struck him again. While part of him wanted to snap Éli’s neck for kissing Jàden, Jon wouldn’t risk another life without her.

  He held out his arm. “Bond me so we can both live, and I’ll take whatever pain you want me to feel.”

  A smug sneer curled Éli’s lip. But he coughed, and blood dripped out the side of his lip. That wasn’t a good sign. “Promise me you will feel the full weight of my anguish.”

  Maybe he should kill him so it would just be him and Jàden again.

  Then again, maybe Éli already had one foot in the grave. “Bring it, brother.”

  Éli scratched the side of his head with the barrel then tossed the weapon aside. “I’ll give you what you want. In return, I walk out first—free and alive. And you don’t dare follow me.”

  It sounded too good to be true, but Jon was too tired to care. “Done.”

  Grabbing Jon’s forearm, Éli pulled himself up until they stood face to face, arms clasped. Black threads of the Flame’s power wrapped his forearms and traveled to Jon’s elbow, each man’s energy tying to one another until something sealed.

  Energy rushed into Jon, light and darkness, two pools of power begging for attention.

  “Have a good life…brother.” Éli pulled him close and slapped his cheek.

  Then he walked out of the bay and down the ramp like he barely had a scratch.

  Jon turned to find Jàden and took her in his arms. He pulled her mouth against his, bright light rushing through his veins. The oily slick dissolved into a silky darkness twining with her light.

  “Can we get out of here first?” she mumbled against him.

  He traced a streak of blood across her cheek. “You found me. I’ll go anywhere you want.”

  Jon lifted his palm, light and shadow and darkness swirling together in a trifecta of power. As he grabbed Jàden’s hand to leave, sharp pain dug into his shoulders.

  “What’s happening?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.” Jàden cried out and clutched her shoulder. “It burns.”

  He pulled down the fabric of her shirt. Her zankata tattoo glowed with deep indigo light. Jon traced his fingers over her birthmark. “The Flames are united.”

  The sickness burned away from his senses as his full strength returned, apart from the injuries Frank and Éli had beaten into him. Jon pulled down his shirt, the same indigo light glowing from lines around his brand. “Which am I, the
horse or the wolf?”

  He wanted to say more, but a young boy stepped off the ramp into the ship’s bay.

  Jon rubbed his eyes, certain he must be hallucinating.

  When his vision cleared, obsidian black eyes stared back at him, filled with tears. “Uncle Jon?”

  “Connor?” He bolted to his nephew’s side, ignoring all the pain in his body. “Guardians be damned, you’re alive.”

  Jon dropped to his knees, pulling Connor into a tight embrace. For one moment he held onto the hope that his family stood outside the ship. He scanned the field and between the trees, but the rain fell heavy over the dreary landscape.

  “Where’s your mother?” Jon asked.

  “Dead.” Connor sobbed against his neck. “He said she deserved it.”

  “Who?” Ice gripped Jon’s heart as he stood once more.

  But his nephew pointed off to the west. “My father.”

  CHAPTER 59

  Westward

  Anger burned in Éli’s gut as he leaned on Granger and limped through the trees toward their horses. He’d had to give up his prize for today, but he pulled her wadded shirt from under his leather breastplate and sniffed deeply of her scent.

  “Commander.” The hesitation in Granger’s voice barely covered up the burning rage as he glanced toward the shattered sky beast. “I’ll ride with you into death, brother, if that’s what you wish.”

  “Not today, Captain.” They’d pushed beyond their own limits and lost everything. Éli would have been dead if not for Evardo slipping into the minds of those soldiers and turning them on one another. But he wasn’t about to walk away emptyhanded. Closing his eyes, Éli breathed in the softness of the Guardian and the strength of Jon Ayers.

  Both Jon and his wife were a part of him now.

  And he’d never let either one forget it.

  Pulling on his own power, he traced dark threads of energy connecting him to Jon and his men, to Connor and to thousands of Rakir to the west and south.

  After a moment, he let them all go, save one, drawing a trace amount of Granger’s energy to help him heal faster.

  Sebastian had always told Éli that he was born to greatness, and now he finally understood. His brand and loyalty no longer controlled him. Éli would still have to be careful about using his power but would never again be enslaved to another man’s will.

  “Today, we become shadows.” He limped toward his horse and pulled himself into the saddle, trying to ignore the excruciating pain in his side. The gunshot burned, and he’d need a healer soon. “As we disappear from these lands, Jon will be left to deal with the all the gifts I left behind.”

  They’d never be apart now, and that knowledge would slowly drive Jon mad. A sneer curled his lip as he took one last look at his woman, her soft breath flowing in his veins as Evardo dropped to their knees, clutching her legs like a small child.

  Stuffing her shirt under his again, Éli turned his horse and disappeared into the trees.

  Granger was at his side. “You may have given up, but I still plan to take both Blakewood’s eyes and leave him to rot.”

  “This is only the beginning,” Éli muttered. “Every day Jon is with Connor, the death of his family will weigh on his soul. He will wonder if they’re still alive and rotting away in a prison cell. That question’s gonna eat his thoughts until he can’t sit still.

  But that is only the start of his troubles. He has a wife he loves and a nephew he’s loyal to, but Connor hates the Guardian. He’s desperate to kill her for the terror she caused him.”

  Éli had fostered that fear over the past season, and now he couldn’t help but wonder how much time would pass before Jon had to divide his loyalty between the woman he loved and the family he clings to.

  “We need Evardo though.” Granger glanced over his shoulder, almost as if he willed the dreamwalker to follow them.

  A smile curled Éli’s lip before the pain struck again and he doubled over, waiting for the sharpness to pass. “Evardo overextended their power, and they’re like a beacon now that can’t ever escape me.”

  He nudged his horse to a faster trot as he clutched his side. “It might look like we’ve lost everything, but I did exactly what I set out to do: make Jon Ayers suffer.”

  “Where to now, Commander?” Granger kept pace with him as they passed beyond the last boundary of the village into the wildlands again. “You’re gonna need to get that injury looked at.”

  For the first time in years, Éli smiled. “I’m in the mood for a strong réva and a good fuck.”

  “Now you’re talkin’.” Granger smacked the leather reins against his horse to put on more speed.

  “After that, we’re gonna steal us an army.” Éli dug his heels into his stallion as they raced through a field with giant ferns.

  They’d find a road soon and, with it, a village or another city. And once he was fit for travel again, it was time to find out exactly what Dràven held hostage that might bait Jon.

  “But this time, I’ll give the orders. Not those pretentious old fucks.”

  CHAPTER 60

  Veradóra

  Jàden traced her fingers along the small, silver blade, tears in her eyes as she searched the sky for any of Bradshaw’s ships. It had taken hours to find everyone when the gas finally dissipated, and as the Veradórans keened over the death of Ìana, Jàden and her brothers grieved for Andrew.

  “This is my fault,” she said.

  Thomas laid a hand on her shoulder. “When are you gonna stop blaming yourself for everything?”

  “When death stops touching those closest to me.” She slid Andrew’s small dagger back into the leather breastplate, a gift from Ashe to carry on his brother’s spirit.

  It didn’t seem right, only seeing Ashe’s grim face instead of two identical ones. She’d said as much when she’d etched her final farewell onto the arrow shaft and fired it into his pyre. Despite saving Ashe’s life, she couldn’t block out the guilt that she’d traded one brother’s life for another.

  “Andrew killed three of Frank’s soldiers to protect us all. Don’t dishonor his death by dwelling on your own guilt. He’s my brother as much as he’s yours, so we share this pain. Like family.”

  She clutched his hand. It would probably be the closest she ever came to Thomas calling her a sister, but she’d gladly take it.

  “Training resumes tonight.” He slapped her shoulder and rejoined Dusty and Theryn, the two bowmen still covered with bloody cuts and mud streaks.

  Of fucking course Thomas would get her training before she had a chance to sleep.

  Jàden grabbed Agnar’s reins, her bags across his back. None of them had saddles anymore, but maybe Kale had left her a replicator inside so she could forge them all new ones.

  Alida touched her arm. “Sumaha wants to speak with you, when you’re ready.”

  She nodded, heart twisting.

  Ìana had been found dead, her body swollen so badly they almost didn’t recognize her. The best guess Jàden could give the Veradórans was she must have had an allergic reaction to something in the knockout gas, though it did not satisfy their grief.

  Sumaha snapped an orange blossom off her arm and slid it into Alida’s braid. When she turned toward Jàden, her features were grim.

  She clutched a pike staff tightly. “I am now leader of Veradóra, and you have brought war to our home. You will leave, with our peace upon you, but we will disappear with the wind and not return to this place.”

  Braygen stepped forward, peeling back the layer of his collar to reveal his ink. “Veradóra has been my home for nearly two hundred years, but I am Tahiró first. When Herana leaves, I will follow.”

  “Don’t be a fool.” Sumaha spat at his feet.

  Tears filled Alida’s eyes as she stepped away from her wife, tugging up the hem of her bodice. Guilt strained her voice. “You know my vows, my beautiful Orange Blossom.”

  Jàden laid a hand on
Alida’s arm. “Don’t. Stay with your family. I have no wish for war.”

  “And yet, it is coming all the same.” Sumaha tapped the pike against her shoulder. “Tahiró vows are stronger than family. Stronger than blood.”

  She stepped closer until their noses were almost touching. “I know your plans to hide underground. Alida does not wish me to lead, and I do not wish her to follow any Guardian.”

  Sumaha grabbed Alida’s hand and held it tight, grief in Sumaha’s dark eyes. “You will give her back to me when she is finished. Promise, Guardian.”

  Jàden laid a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “She will be safe in the bunker. And who knows? Maybe one day Alida will show you the stars.”

  Alida grinned. “Gonna learn me how to wrangle one of them sky beasts. Then I’ll rain down the fire over that Doc fella.”

  Jàden stepped back.

  Jon tapped her shoulder and pointed to the sky. A small spot raced across the clouds. “Gotta go, baby.”

  Jàden nodded her farewell to the Veradórans and grabbed Agnar’s reins. He tossed his head and shook out his fur, then they followed Jon into the bunker.

  “Don’t you worry,” she said. “Kale always thinks of everything. If we’re lucky, we’ll have a holodeck in here for you fuzzy monsters.”

  The doors closed.

  Her brothers stood beside their horses in the Temple of the Three Moons. Jon kept a hand on his nephew’s shoulder, but uncertainty shadowed his eyes.

  She stepped closer, but Connor glared at her and hid behind Evardo.

  Sighing deeply, she turned over Jon’s hand, light and shadow and darkness lifting from his palm.

  Untying his bracer, Jàden pushed up his sleeve, revealing the bloodflower tattoo.

  “Enforcers tried to kill me once.”

  She laid her hand on his forearm and looked deep into his eyes, her stomach fluttering at the gentleness of his thumb against her cheek. “But we’re bound now, you and I, and I’ll never regret my choice.

  “I made a promise to you that I will not break,” she said. “Two years of training to learn how to fight without magic.”