Knight's Salvation (Knights of Hell Book 2)

Home > Contemporary > Knight's Salvation (Knights of Hell Book 2) > Page 22
Knight's Salvation (Knights of Hell Book 2) Page 22

by Sherilee Gray


  Taking a deep breath, and using her newly regained powers, Helena claimed her freedom. He expected to find Silas waiting for them, but there was no sign of the angel.

  That male did nothing without reason, and his absence meant whatever was about to happen—good or bad—was meant to.

  “No sign of that bastard Silas,” Helena said beside him, like she’d read his thoughts.

  Wrapping her hand around his arm like they were taking a fucking stroll in the park, she tugged him into motion. The night before, she’d given him a small boost of power, enough to heal most of his injuries, but not enough that he could attempt an escape. Not that he had any intention of running.

  Nine days had passed since Mia had cried out his name and he’d watched her father carry her away from him. Nine excruciating days of wondering if she was all right, of missing her so bad it surpassed any punishment Helena had dished out. Being separated from her was killing him.

  They walked into the elevator and Helena stared in confusion at the buttons. Watching her flounder gave him a small measure of enjoyment.

  Her grip tightened painfully on his forearm. “Why are we in this box? I don’t like it.”

  “It takes us out of the building.” He punched the button for the ground floor and her eyes widened in alarm. Helena had been contained since they escaped Hell many, many years ago, controlled and moved around by Silas. This was her first taste of the outside world.

  When they walked out of the building and onto the street, she looked around with something close to fear and not a little wonder. “I can see why Diemos wants to conquer this realm.”

  The closer they got to the portal, the more alive Zenon’s senses became. He felt his brothers nearby. Mia’s father would have spoken to them, like they’d agreed. Told them what was going to happen here tonight, what was at stake. That there was no other option.

  That Zenon had to do this alone.

  Filling them in was the only way to ensure they didn’t try to stop what was about to happen.

  As they stepped up to the mouth of the alley, Zenon’s chest tightened.

  His brothers lined the walls on either side. Chaos, Gunner, and Kryos stood to the left, while Laz and Roc stood to the right.

  “What is this?” Helena hissed. “I was guaranteed a clear passage.”

  “Are we standing in your way?” Chaos said. The hatred in his voice was so thick you couldn’t miss the fact his demon had come to the surface.

  Helena’s nails dug into his flesh. “If you take one step toward us, I will kill him.”

  A muscle in Chaos’s jaw jumped, but he didn’t make a move. She was too powerful for any of them to kill. He saw the moment his brother realized that, the moment he felt it. Sharp pain dimmed Chaos’s dark eyes and a single tear streaked down his rough cheek. Seeing that, fuck, it hurt more than any torture Zenon had suffered in his life.

  Yeah, he had no doubt Chaos had planned to try and take Helena down despite what Marcus had told them.

  And now his brother knew why he couldn’t.

  The damage Helena could do here on Earth would be devastating, which was why she needed to go back to Hell. Besides Silas, the only beings strong enough to keep her under control were Lucifer and Diemos, and Chaos understood it now.

  His brother stood rock solid. “We won’t get in your way. We have a purpose here tonight, like we do every time the portal opens, as you well know.”

  Zenon felt the stares of each warrior trained on him as he followed in Helena’s wake. But he didn’t feel shame. No, he felt the strength they were giving him. He felt their respect.

  Zenon looked up as he passed Rocco, their gazes locking, and fuck, he felt all the pain and helplessness his brother was feeling.

  Gunner was giving off more of the same, his jaw tightening when Zenon met the warrior’s eyes. Kryos was next, and the torment, the love he felt when their gazes locked had Zenon choking down the boulder in his throat.

  Lazarus thumped his fist against his chest, right over his heart, and let out a battle cry that lifted the hair on the back of Zenon’s neck, his anguish and rage ringing out loud and clear.

  The others followed his lead, their cries echoing off the brick walls, filling Zenon to overflowing with their love and strength.

  In that moment, Zenon knew if he’d only lifted his head instead of dropping his gaze in shame he would have seen the same thing from the very beginning from all his brothers.

  Their hands were tied; they couldn’t help him, and it was hurting them to see him this way, facing this on his own.

  He couldn’t fuck this up.

  There was too much at stake.

  The red brick wall in front of them began to flicker to life, and his brothers stepped out into the center of the alley, taking their positions, ready for whatever came out at them.

  “Move to the side if you don’t want to get trampled,” Zenon said to Helena.

  She did what he said without question. Her excitement had faded and the acrid scent of her fear replaced it. Going back was a huge risk for her, and if things went badly, she’d soon wish she was back in her ivory tower. But, like him, she was willing to risk it all, even death to gain her freedom.

  Zenon clenched and unclenched his fists. This had to be timed perfectly. He didn’t know how long he could survive once he stepped through to the other side.

  Chaos lifted his gaze and cursed. Zenon looked up. Above them, lining the alley walls, were about ten demi dressed in black, all concealing their faces. Looked like Chaos had backup whether he wanted it or not.

  “Don’t move until I tell you,” Zenon said.

  Helena moved restlessly at his side but had a determined look on her face. She didn’t fool him; she was freaking the fuck out. It had been a long time since she’d been home, and she was counting on allies that had more than likely hitched their sorry asses to the next power-hungry asshole.

  The wall flashed behind them and the portal opened. Demons instantly scrambled through. Zenon pulled Helena farther to the side, out of the way. The fighting began, his brothers engaging their enemy with single-minded focus. He needed to keep it that way. The sooner he was out of sight the better.

  Ropes came down the walls from above, and some of the demi descended, while others picked off demons with crossbows from above.

  It was time.

  The nerves in his gut weren’t fluttering—no, they felt like goddamn boulders smacking into the back of his ribs. He took Helena’s hand and stood in front of the portal. Before he stepped through, he turned. Chaos stood in the middle of the alley, fighting going on all around him, blood dripping from a slice to his shoulder. Their eyes met, and Zenon lifted his chin. Chaos did the same then turned away to engage the next demon gunning for him.

  “All right. Let’s do this,” he said.

  Helena sucked in a breath and they stepped through.

  Chapter 20

  The smell was the first thing that struck him. A smell that brought to life the living nightmares of his past.

  But he’d been wrong about one thing. There was no delay. He felt it straight away. The angel brand on his face, the safeguard that prevented a knight from entering Hell, was doing what it was meant to. If they became fully possessed by their demon and tried to return to Hell, they could be used as a weapon against mankind, against their brothers. That was something the angels could not allow.

  He was slipping away as he stood there.

  Without warning, his knees gave out and he hit the rough stone hard enough to rattle his teeth. Helena dropped to his side. “What are you doing? Stand, damn you.”

  He pointed to his face, to the brand Silas had given him all those years ago. “This isn’t a claim of ownership. This is what will free me from you.”

  She reared back as if he’d slapped her, shaking her head. “No.”

  The realization that this was it hit him like a wrecking ball to the chest. Their planning had been for nothing. No way could he get back throu
gh the portal. He could barely fucking blink, let alone get to his feet and fight his way back out. His vocal cords protested, but he forced out the words. “Thanks to Mia, I know what it is to be loved. And I would rather die happy, holding onto the memory of that, of her, than live another minute with you.”

  Pain flashed across her dark eyes in a rare glimpse of vulnerability, but then she fisted his hair and tugged hard. “I can’t do this without you. I order you to get up, Zenon. Now.”

  He chuckled, a mirthless rasp that managed to hold several lifetimes of contempt for the female kneeling in front of him. “I hope you suffer before you die.”

  “Oh, she will.” Diemos stepped from the shadows. “You’ve come home, Helena. How nice to see you again.”

  Helena stumbled to her feet. Zenon could see she was trying to use her powers, but each attempt was met with failure. She scrambled back. “No, this can’t be.”

  “You’re not the only one who’s grown stronger.” Diemos lifted his hand and Helena moved toward him like a puppet on a string. She tried to fight as several Orthon demons moved toward her, but her powers were no match for Diemos.

  “Zenon!” she screamed as the demons took hold of her.

  Zenon ignored her, refused to look at her as they carried her away to her new prison.

  The light show that started up around them meant the portal was moments from closing. He squeezed his eyes closed and pictured Mia, love shining in her pale blue eyes. This place would not be the last thing he saw before he died.

  His organs began to shut down one by one, his limbs growing heavy, like a great weight had been draped over his body.

  “Do you enjoy soaring through the clouds, my son?” Zenon forced his eyes open at the sound of Diemos’s voice.

  Crouched in front of him, the new demon king of Hell watched him closely. Lifting long slender fingers, he slipped them down the buttons of his shirt, opening them one by one, revealing his bare chest. His skin was smooth, so pale Zenon could see the blue veins running beneath. He slipped it off his shoulders and turned. The stubby remains of what would have once been wings protruded from his back. When Diemos turned back to face him, he smiled. “Now you know why I crave the light.”

  Diemos was a fallen angel.

  He crouched down and ran a cold finger down the side of Zenon’s face, and for the first time Zenon looked into Diemos’s eyes. Yellow, like his.

  No.

  The way Diemos studied him so intently, like he could see right through him, made his skin crawl, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that he couldn’t fucking move he’d have pulled away.

  “It’s why I could never claim you as my child. As a babe you didn’t have the ability to conceal that part of you.” He shrugged. “No one here can know what I am. The only angel tolerated in Hell was my father. They would have come after me if they knew what I was. You know that, don’t you, son?”

  “Lucifer’s your father?” Zenon choked.

  “I concealed you from him like he concealed me from the demons who worshipped him. I was a disappointment, you see. He hated that I had wings when his had been taken. That’s why he took mine. He wanted another son, so I knew if he found out about you he’d cast me aside.” Hatred transformed Diemos’s face. “He’d want you and not me at his side. I waited, bided my time. I told him about you when Helena left with you. Your grandfather went after you. And I took a chance. Warded the portal, took my place on the throne.” He slid his fingers down the side of Zenon’s face. “I must thank you for that.”

  Zenon couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  Diemos had stood back, watched him be tortured, degraded. More than once he’d dished out the punishments himself, had enjoyed every moment of the pain he’d inflicted, and all the while the bastard had known—known Zenon was his son.

  “Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood.” Diemos’s dark gaze traveled over him. “We are enemies now, you and I. But I will let you go.”

  He smiled in a way that made Zenon’s skin crawl. “I plan on taking Earth as soon as I can figure out how to kill my father. He is my only real obstacle.” His pupils turned midnight. “Who knows? One day I may have use of you again.”

  A pop and a flash of light filled the cavern, indicating their time was up—the portal was about to close. Diemos stood, taking Zenon’s limp body with him, and dragged him the short distance to the opening.

  “You were no mistake, my son,” Diemos whispered darkly against his ear then shoved him through the hell’s gate.

  Zenon hit the ground hard. Blinking, he got an eyeful of red brick wall, and the smell of the city burned a path into his lungs. Lungs that were struggling to draw breath. He gasped several times, but it was no good. It was too late.

  Darkness descended.

  Then there was no more pain.

  Mia sat wrapped in a blanket, staring at the television in front of her, but had no idea what was on. All she could see was Zenon, the way he’d looked when she was carried away.

  She didn’t know if he was alive or dead. All she knew for sure was he had been suffering, could still be suffering. She couldn’t help him, and no one would do anything. Chaos refused to go in and get him out of there, wouldn’t even talk about it with her—none of the knights would.

  Eve told her to have faith. In what? No one was doing anything.

  To make matters worse, she had a constant guard on her so she couldn’t leave the compound. James followed her around like a shadow, casting her sympathetic looks and trying to distract her.

  “You want to watch something else?”

  She looked away from the television. James sat beside her, holding the TV remote. She shook her head. “I think I’ll go to bed.” Where she could smell Zenon’s scent in the sheets and imagine he’d he home any minute, imagine he was there with her.

  “You need to eat.”

  “I’m not hungry.” She shrugged off the blanket and tried to stand, but James grabbed her arm.

  “Mia, you haven’t eaten in days. You look like shit. You want to be on death’s door when your mate comes home?”

  She stilled. “Is he?”

  He shook his head. “I wish I knew. I hope so, for both your sakes. My guess, there’s more going on than you and I know. Those guys never do anything without good reason, and it has to be something huge to stop them going in after one of their brothers.”

  “I can’t take much more of this, James. Knowing he’s with that monster. What if she’s already taken him back to Hell? What if I never see him again?”

  “Tonight’s the equinox. If it’s happening, it’s happening tonight.”

  Mia started toward the door, but James was in front of her, blocking her escape before she touched the handle. “I have to go to him. Please, let me go.”

  James pulled her into him and wrapped her in his arms. “I know this is hard, Mia. But you’ll only get in the way. You want him to come home safe. Getting in the way and distracting them isn’t going to help him.”

  He was right, she knew he was, but it did little to stop her desire to get to him. She nodded against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. “Goddammit.”

  “Come on, come back and sit down. I’ll make you dinner.”

  After she’d eaten, James pulled her into his side and ordered her to close her eyes. Not only had she not been eating, she’d barely slept.

  Somehow she must have managed to drift off to sleep, because she woke to a loud bang and a string of curses from James. Mia shot to her feet and nearly fell to the floor with a mixture of relief and abject horror. Chaos and Rocco carried Zenon in. He was limp in their arms.

  They lay him on the couch and stepped back.

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  The look in Chaos’s eyes was haunted, a mix of pure rage and soul-destroying agony. “He’s dying.”

  Pain sliced through her, and she dropped to her knees beside him. She touched his forehead, his dry lips. He was cold to the touch and his skin was
a sickly gray. Resting her hand on his bare chest, she felt the slow, erratic beat of his heart. He didn’t move. “No. This can’t be happening. You were supposed to save him. Why didn’t you save him?”

  “I’m so sorry, Mia,” Rocco choked beside her. “There was nothing we could do.”

  The other knights moved in and gathered around them. They were all grief stricken, straight from a fight, and covered in blood, clothes torn. A couple were wounded badly, but no one moved. They stood there looking as helpless as Mia felt.

  The grief that tore through her in that moment was an agony she never knew existed, a weight that was so crushing she could barely breathe, knives so sharp she felt sliced to shreds, and she cried out from the enormity of it.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  They’d just found each other.

  Zenon was meant for her and she for him. How would she live without him? How would she go on without her beautiful, broken warrior by her side? Resting her head on his chest, she threaded her fingers with his and laid the other on his stomach. The beats against her cheek slowed further and she whimpered. No, please no.

  She didn’t hear anything else; her sole focus was on that slowing beat.

  Then it stopped.

  “No. No, no, no.” She held his face in her hands. “Zenon. Please come back to me. Don’t go.” She shook his shoulders. Her sobs made it hard to draw breath and she gasped for air.

  Someone pulled her roughly into their arms and held her. “He’s gone, Mia. He’s gone.”

  She fought until they let her go, and she crawled onto the couch with his still body, wrapping herself around him protectively. No one was taking him, not yet. Not yet.

  “Fuck, this is killing me. What do we do?” It was Lazarus, and she could hear the grief in his voice.

  “Leave her with him,” Chaos choked out.

  The pain in her chest throbbed. Pain over losing the male she loved, and anger over what he had suffered. It filled her until it became unbearable, heating her from the inside out. Unable to contain it, she released it, all of it. All the pent-up rage and grief swirling inside her. There was a sound of scrambling feet and cursing. Furniture being knocked over. But she couldn’t stop, was too far gone.

 

‹ Prev