Death Doesn't Bargain

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Thorn almost dropped his glass. “What was that?”

  “It’s your toast, is it not? One that you’re fond of making?”

  He tried to shrug it off. “Just something I say. It has no meaning.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe you, and I know you don’t yourself. You’re as afraid of the past catching up to you as the rest of them. That is the true demon that relentlessly flogs your soul.”

  Thorn didn’t speak as she wandered off. There was nothing to say about the truth.

  Suddenly, he wasn’t as fond of her as he’d been before. Indeed, he had a sudden urge to feed her to one of Savitar’s Charonte. Too bad they didn’t like rag dolls.…

  “You’re looking grim.”

  Thorn groaned at Acheron’s bad joke. “Ever wonder why they shoot the messenger?”

  He screwed his face up in pain. “So not punny.”

  Thorn begged to disagree. He thought it was quite a clever play on the fact that Acheron was the harbinger of death for his mother. Or at least that was the role he was supposed to have been born for.

  But like Thorn, Acheron had chosen another path for himself than that which his parents had wanted. And for which they’d bred him.

  “Nice coat, by the way. I particularly like the bloodstain on the lapel.”

  Acheron glanced down and cursed. “Thought I got all that out.”

  “Should I ask?”

  He shrugged. “I liked the cut of it. Didn’t like the cut of the man who wore it. Nasty bastard. Pirate hunter. Human trafficker. Decided the world was better off without his participation in it.”

  Thorn arched a brow at that uncharacteristic confession. “Thought you’d taken a vow to stay out of human affairs and to let nature run its course.”

  “Had a moment of weakness. Needed the target practice.”

  Thorn snorted. “Look at you … I’ll make a human of you, yet.”

  “Don’t insult me.”

  “And yet you head up the Dark-Hunters?”

  “Only because I’m an idiot with nothing better to do. As you said, too much time on my hands.”

  But Thorn knew better. While Acheron wasn’t altruistic, he wasn’t callous, either. They were both driven by guilt and demons that warred within them. Both running from a past they wanted to forget.

  And a family that wouldn’t let them live in peace.

  Thorn let out a long, weary sigh. “It’s hard to walk in the light when the darkness is forever calling you.”

  “Not really.” Acheron shrugged. “I stub my toes a lot less often in the light.”

  “True, but the dark doesn’t burn your skin, and it makes hiding your flaws a lot easier.”

  “That’s the problem, though, isn’t it?”

  “What?” Thorn asked.

  “Sooner or later, your flaws are always seen for what they are.”

  “It’s why I pick such good ones.”

  Acheron gave him an arch stare. “Do you?”

  Thorn nodded, then counted them off on his fingers. “Being too good-looking, having too much money, and sleeping too late.”

  Acheron laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

  Thorn didn’t comment on that. Instead, he changed the subject. “So how’s that boat coming?”

  “Waiting for her crew. I think Bane will be quite pl…” His voice trailed off as his eyes turned dark, fiery red.

  The room darkened as if a typhoon was rolling in.

  Thorn stood and set his cup aside. “What is this?”

  Belle answered. “Evil walks on calm legs.”

  The windows shattered and blew glass shards through the room, sending the white curtains of the Omegrion’s chambers twisting in the violent wind.

  Acheron held his arm up to shield his face, and the moment he did, a shadow shot out from his sleeve to wrap itself around him. “No, Simi!”

  But his demon didn’t listen. She took the form of a young woman, dressed in breeches and a striped shirt. “You needs to leave, Akri! What lives in the sea can eats you, and it don’t need no condiments, neither!”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  She glared at him while Devyl and his Deadmen took positions around Paden.

  Thorn summoned his burgundy battle armor. For a moment, he considered calling out to the Hell-Hunters for assistance, but he knew better. Michael and the rest of the Kalosum army hated him and his Hellchasers. No matter what they might say, they didn’t trust them.

  They never would.

  Nothing would change that. Not even the Malachai crashing open the gates of hell and this latest test of arms where the world might be ending.

  But the day would come when they’d realize that they weren’t so different. That even though they were born worlds apart, their goals were the same.

  That they all bled red.

  And that the only way for them to have the peace they so desperately wanted, to have the world they craved, was to unite together and fight side by side as one family. Not to let their petty differences divide them.

  Strong alone.

  Stronger united.

  So long as their suspicions kept them at each other’s throats—so long as their enemies had them tearing each other apart, they would always be weak. The Mavromino would always have a way to break through.

  Just like now.

  That was the strength of the darkness. It was what kept it coming back even when they thought they had it defeated.

  Paden cried out in pain. His eyes turned black.

  As did his hair.

  “What do we do?” Will asked.

  Bart unsheathed his sword. “Stab him while we’re able!”

  Belle grabbed his hand and stopped him. “You can’t do that! He’s one of us.”

  “Was.” Bart gestured at him. “Look at him now. He’s turning to the Iri. He’ll destroy us all.”

  As Bart went to make the killing blow, Paden caught his arm and wrenched it hard. “I’m not against you, you fool!”

  Before they could ask what he meant, the doors splintered open to show Cameron.

  Only Thorn had never seen her look like this before.…

  She was glittering white. A pure perfection that seemed ethereal and unreal.

  Unnatural.

  Except for her wings, which were a vibrant red. At first glance, they appeared to be bleeding, but the illusion was caused by her motion of flight as she flew toward Devyl.

  “They took Kalder!”

  “They?” Mara asked.

  Her lips trembled. “The Malachai. He’s intending to march on Azmodea and slay his masters so that he can absorb their powers, and then take down the light gods—Verlyn, Rezar, and Cam.”

  Thorn felt his legs go weak at the news. That would have the Malachai with the power of all the original Source gods.

  Except one.

  The mother of the Malachai. But given that he was her son, he already carried a great deal of hers to begin with.

  Were he to combine that with the others …

  The Malachai would rule all worlds.

  “Can they do that?” Devyl turned to face him.

  Avoiding the question, Acheron cut a nervous stare toward Thorn. “Do they know where Cam and Rezar are?”

  Thorn’s stomach twisted with fear. “They could use Verlyn to find them. Even Seth could track Rezar, if needs be.”

  Mara scowled. “Seth?”

  “Nothing.” Thorn cleared his throat. “How did they get Kalder?”

  Fury darkened her cheeks. “The ring he was given wasn’t truly his mother’s. It was a subjicible krogŭ.”

  Thorn growled at the ancient term used for a Simeon Mage’s mastery ring. Though rare, they’d been created to bind a demon’s powers and enslave the creature to whomever had bespelled it.

  Total subjugation.

  Once activated, the wearer had no mind or will of their own, other than what their masters gave them.

  It was an insidious device that had been denoun

ced by the wizards as unethical centuries ago. Banned by their council, who feared what the demons might do to them in retaliation for creating such a thing, the rings had been ordered gathered up and destroyed.

  Apparently, they’d missed one.

  Probably more.

  Damn …

  Paden took his sister’s arm. “What happened to you?”

  Cameron hesitated as a single crystal tear fell down her cheek and she recalled the entire event in her mind. The pain of it all was still raw and bleeding and left her ragged. “Not knowing it was a trick, Kalder gave the ring to me.”

  Over and over, her mind replayed Kalder rushing to her defense. She saw his love for her as he placed himself in harm’s way while the Malachai’s new forces surrounded them. Forever the traitor to any cause save her own, Gadreyal was no longer in league with Noir and Azura.

  Kalder’s jaw had dropped at the sight of her and Vine. “Do your masters know where you are?”

  Vine had laughed in their faces. “We have a new master now. And the Adarian Malachai has no use for the Dark Ones. He’s rising now and they will soon be nothing more than a forgotten nightmare for us all.”

  “Beware the gods and heroes you rip down in your quest for power. What rises up to replace them may not be the dream you think it. Rather, the hungry wolf that leads you today can oft be the same one that turns its sights to you tomorrow. For once one enemy falls, it looks for another to attack. Pray that you aren’t the next in line for its venom.”

  Gadreyal laughed. “We’re immune. He’s promised us a better day.”

  “As do they all. Hard to get anyone to follow you when you promise them a worse one. Open your eyes before it’s too late. See the path not just before your feet, but where it will ultimately lead you.”

  “’Tis your own arse you’d best be worried for, mate,” Vine sneered. “As it’s the one we’re about to feed to the Malachai.”

  They advanced on Cameron to separate her from him.

  Kalder moved to cut them off, as if he could stand alone against the entire horde that was fast coming for them. “I won’t let you touch her.”

  “We’re not asking.”

  “Neither am I. I’m telling you to back away from us while you can.”

  Gadreyal had again laughed in his face.

  Her mistake.

  Kalder had lifted Cameron’s hand in his, and locked gazes with her. “All my life, I’ve seen poison in others, and I’ve struck out in fear against it. Since the hour of my birth, I’ve refused to be owned by anything or mastered by anyone. I’ll be damned if I’ll stand by and see these bastards pluck the only lilium inter spinas I’ve ever known.”

  And before she could move, he kissed her.

  The moment their lips touched, she felt him drawing something out of her body. Something she couldn’t name or even begin to describe. With it, all the color rapidly drained from her body and caused Kalder’s to darken again to the scarred Cyphnian beast who’d first terrified her.

  The fire returned to his body as he pulled the ring from her finger.

  “A school of mistakes, Miss Jack, is called life. Be damned if I let you be one of mine. I’ve enough of them. You are and will always be my sole light in the darkness. They want a servant, then they’ll have the devil to pay for it.”

  Before she could protest or stop him, Kalder launched himself away from her, toward the sea. “I am me father’s son, Gadreyal. And me mother’s. If it’s a battle you want, let’s swim for it.”

  When Cameron had gone to fight by his side, she’d been thrown away from him by some unseen force.

  One moment she’d been on the beach.

  The next, she’d been outside the doors of the hall where the Deadmen were gathered.

  Now, she stared at her friends and wiped at the tears on her face. “We have to help him!”

  Devyl shook his head. “I swear, that boy gets into more shite. I’m half tempted to let them keep him this time.”

  Thorn arched a brow at that.

  “I’m not going to. Merely said I was tempted.” Devyl glanced to Sallie. “Unleash your soul, man. There’s another fight to be had.”

  Acheron grinned. “I’ll wake Savitar from his nap. This should be fun.” Sarcasm dripped from his tone. “Like being gutted in a public forum.”

  Thorn clapped him on the arm. “Which is why I’m glad you volunteered for it, as you’re one of the few he tolerates.”

  Simi wrinkled her nose at them. “The Simi will wakes him. He likes me bestest. And can I eats the demons on the beach?”

  “As long as they’re not one of mine,” Thorn said gently. “It’s too hard to replace them.”

  She sighed as if terribly put out by his restriction. “Well, poo on that, but okies.”

  Cameron took Paden’s sword from him.

  “Hey! What are you doing?”

  “They’ve contaminated this, brother.” She felt the difference in the metal the moment her hand touched the hilt. “It’s been infecting you since they released us. And it’s why you’ve been such a jerk.”

  “I have not!”

  She gave him an arch stare as she crossed the room to hand it over to Thorn. “Can you tell a difference?”

  He hissed the moment he touched it and dropped it as if it were on fire.

  They all stared at his reaction.

  “What?” Thorn growled. “Not like all of you don’t know my origins. ’Tis a Seraph sword. Those are lethal to one of my ilk. And while it isn’t Michael’s soul inside that one anymore, it still burns the shite out of me.”

  “What?” Paden’s color drained.

  Thorn jerked his chin toward the sword as Cameron retrieved it. “Your sister’s correct with what she said. It’s Gadreyal’s medallion controlling your sword. Not Michael’s. That’s why you’re no longer fair when she’s near you and you’re under attack. You have to get your medallion back. So long as Gaddy has it, she can infect and control you.”

  “Is there no way to cleanse it?”

  Thorn gave him a look that said he was completely moronic for asking such a question. “Aye. Get your medallion back. Or you can take the sword to Michael and ask him for a favor. I wouldn’t suggest the latter, as he’s a testy, volatile little bastard. Likely to run you through rather than help you. But hey, you can always try that stupidity.” He took his handkerchief out to wipe at his hand. “In the meantime, I wouldn’t suggest using that. However, ’tis your choice of funeral. Have a nice wake.”

  “And we’re wasting time!” Cameron headed for the doors. “Me Kalder’s out there. Alone. We stand and we fight. Not for ourselves, but for what we love and value. Our friends. Our families. Our futures. Now you demon bastards better run!”

  Devyl laughed at her spunk. “Aye, aye, Miss Jack. Ever at the ready.”

  Stretching her wings, Cameron flew back through the storm as fast as she could.

  But it was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. The high winds tore at her body, and threatened to send her straight to the ground. Strixa flew by her side in her black owl form, helping her as best she could.

  “Keep your head down. Don’t fight the current or it’ll shred your wings.”

  Cameron obeyed.

  And when they reached the beach where she’d left Kalder, her heart stopped beating. Never in her life had she seen so much carnage. Bodies were strewn everywhere. Blood and entrails soaked the sand.

  Her stomach heaved.

  She landed hard on the ground and staggered to her knees, fearing that one of those twisted, unidentifiable remains was Kalder’s.

  An eerie silence rang out. Not even the wind made a sound.

  Strixa landed next to her and took on her human form. “What happened here?”

  Cameron couldn’t speak. Was this what they had to look forward to? Was this what the Malachai and his army were capable of?

  In this moment, she saw the future of the world, and it terrified her. No wonder Thorn had been willing to barter with the devil himself to bring the Deadmen back to fight. This was too horrifying to contemplate.

  She pressed her fist to her lips as she bit back a scream. How could this have happened? She hadn’t been gone that long.

  Chthamalus slid in by her side and patted her back with two tentacles. “I know, my lady. I know. The sight of my prince’s skills are a bit overwhelming.”

  Cameron froze at those unexpected words. Stunned, she turned toward him to make sure she’d heard that correctly. “P-p-pardon?”

  He looked at her blankly. “This mess … he’s not a tidy one when he gets busy in battle. You should have seen him in his younger days. He was much worse.”

  She blinked and blinked again. “Are you saying he’s not dead?”

  Now it was Chthamalus who appeared shocked. “I should think not.” He blinked and glanced about. “Nay. Not over these paltry few.”

  Cameron forced herself to stand on shaking legs. “Kalder?” she called out.

  Their answer came as a bright flash and a brilliant explosion that shook the ground under them.

  Then Cameron saw a small glimmer in the water that she recognized. Chthamalus was right! It was him.

  Tears filled her eyes.

  But her relief was short-lived.

  Something seemed to be wrong.…

  Her heart pounding, she took flight and headed for him. Sure enough, it was Kalder, and for reasons she couldn’t fathom, he was struggling to remain afloat. There was no mistaking the panic in his eyes that were once again their beautiful pewter color.

  Cameron dove for him. “Kalder!” She held her hands out.

  Without hesitation, he reached up for her.

  She grabbed hold, and though she lacked the strength to lift him from the water, she was able to keep him afloat with her wings until they reached the shore.

  There, Bart and Will, along with the captain, helped to pull him onto the beach. Cameron fell to her knees, by his side.

  He was terribly wounded. But what shocked her the most was that he didn’t have any fins or markings. He appeared to be human.

  Confused, she rubbed at his back. “Kalder?”

  Choking, he wheezed and coughed. “Never piss off a Malachai.”

  Devyl pounded on his back. “What happened?”

  -->