Absolute Surrender (26 page)

***

Aethan was headed for the front door, when Hedori stopped him. “Sire, we have a problem.”

Aethan clamped back his annoyance at the interruption. “What is it?”

“We have a visitor.”

“Handle him, or have one of the others do it. I don’t have the time.” Aethan continued on his way, pulling his cell phone from his leathers. The only urgent thing right now was bringing Echo back. Except for three calls on the day he disappeared, she hadn’t called him again.

“My lord, it’s a
her
.”

Aethan halted, his gaze narrowing. The only
her
he wanted was Echo, but at the look in his butler’s eyes, a low growl rumbled out of him. Who the hell was it? He hoped it wasn’t one of the goddesses from the pantheons. He didn’t have time to deal with this crap. But Hedori had already left. Dammit!

Hearing light footsteps, Aethan turned. The vision coming toward him was like a punch to his gut, stealing his breath. Emotions cascaded, ripping him apart.

Resentment. Anger. Bitterness.

Memories locked away crashed through the walls of his mind and flooded him. His father’s determination that Aethan accept the betrothal contract with a female he thought of as a sister. The awful argument that followed. Him storming out of the palace, heading straight for the training arena. And Ariana...

There he broke the first rule of Empyrea.
Never use your powers in anger.

Now, his past stood before him and brought back the tragedy that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Elytani.
The female the council had chosen for him to kick-start their new laws. And he, their sacrificial lamb.
He swallowed hard and stared at the female in a long, dark green gown.

Long moonlight colored hair flowed down to her hips, her face paler than the creamy gold he remembered. Dark eyes watched him warily.

“My lord, A’than,” Elytani whispered. She stopped a few feet from him, looking as though she’d seen a ghost. “I thought you were dead.”

“Why are you here?”

She flinched at the coldness in his voice, then she stiffened her spine. “A’than, I’m your betrothed. Aren’t you happy to see me?”

A nerve ticked in his jaw. He didn’t have time to deal with this. With an engagement that never took place, one he never wanted. Why the hell couldn’t his past just stay buried? Still, she was an innocent in Empyrea’s machinations. And she didn't deserve his anger.

“Elytani, the betrothal never happened. Just how did you get here?”

“I went to see the mage, Allatus, about my future, and he told me to seek what I desire.” A blush pinkened her face. “I–er–was thinking of you, hoping you weren’t dead, and ended up here.”

Aethan shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Great! He couldn’t imagine his old mage letting Elytani come here. Had to be an accident. After all, the old bastard was the one to kick him through a portal into this realm after his banishment was declared.

“I’m sorry, but you cannot stay. You have to go back.”

Shock widened her eyes. “You’re going to send me away?”

“You don’t belong on this realm.”

“But I’m an Empyrean. I can control myself. My powers aren’t like yours—” The flush on her skin brightened as if she just realized whom she spoke to.

“My pardon, A’than...” Her apology died as footsteps sounded behind him.

He turned and saw Týr approaching from down the corridor. When Elytani’s gaze rested on the male, she simply stared.

Týr stopped beside him. “Who is she?”

Aethan gestured to her. “Týr, Elytani. Ely, Týr.”

A look of awed curiosity crossed her face, then she curtsied. Týr responded with a half bow. Of course, she’d be stunned by the Norse’s looks. Most females were. That was why Aethan had lost his head when he thought Echo had succumbed, too.

With little choice and since he needed Týr’s help, Aethan gave him a quick rundown of what had happened, leaving out the more painful parts. Then he asked, “Would you see to her? Ask Michael to send her back? I have to go.”

Týr nodded. Aethan turned on his heel but she stopped him.

“My lord, A’than, the betrothal?”

He shook his head. “It never happened. Your family should have told you that.”

“They did, but I thought—”

“I’m sorry you came all this way for something that doesn’t exist.”
His cell vibrated in his pocket. Taking the phone out, he glanced at the unfamiliar number and answered. Then his vision hazed as he listened, his heart seizing in fear.

He dematerialized, the phone still pressed to his ear.

***

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Kira told Aethan, rubbing her hands down the hips of her jeans, her hazel eyes dark with worry.

“I’ll find her. Call me if she comes back.”

Aethan left the brownstone. He tried to connect with Echo telepathically. A waste of time he knew, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying. It was a gift given by Gaia only to her warriors.

His gut tightened, desperation tearing through him.

Echo
! Her name was a roar in his mind. The air around him crackled and sparked.

“You flashed out of the house, left an energy trail dangerous enough to turn a mortal to ash,” someone said from beside him.

He turned his head, trying to focus. Týr and Blaéz flanked his sides.

“What happened?” Týr asked.

“Echo’s gone.” It took a moment to get his emotions under control. “She had a nightmare and then she disappeared. Her friend called me, but she has no idea where Echo is.”

“A nightmare?” Blaéz asked him.

“A
demonii
killed her friend several years ago. She’s been hunting for him ever since. It’s why she goes after them with single-minded purpose.”

Cold fury stoked his temper, warring with his fear as the stark truth hit him hard. Everything he knew about Echo’s past, Lila had told him. Echo was like Zip-Loc. Now she hunted this
demonii
fucker who killed her friend. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. In worry.

Dammit! Lila should have warned him about this. His mate was out there, alone, while danger lurked in the shadows.

“Have to admire the female. She’s got some moves in her. The way she took down those
demoniis
at the castle, never seen anything like it before.”

The admiration in Týr’s voice scraped at his gut gone raw with anxiety. Aethan nailed him with a deadly stare.

The male shrugged. “She’s damn good with a blade. But as much as I hate to agree with you, she shouldn’t be hunting
demoniis
.” He glanced at Blaéz. “Anything?”

“You do know I can’t turn my precognition on at will, right?”

Týr eyed him in mocking despair. “Useless talent. Let’s go. If she hunts for this
fucker, then I’m thinking alleys, all their usual haunts—”

“
Shit
—the obsidian!”

“What about it?” Blaéz glanced at Aethan’s belt and frowned at the pewter dagger he now carried.

“It would summon me—it’s hers now. But dammit—” He scrubbed a hand over his face at the reason why it would do so. “When the
demoniis
tried to take her in the subway, it yanked me to her, and just in time, too—I've got to go.”

Moments later, Aethan took form near her apartment building on the Lower East Side. With preternatural speed he headed to the fourth level. Most of the mortals here were asleep. He scanned and picked up sounds of a baby crying, snoring, and someone coughing. But nothing of Echo.

It didn’t matter. He had to see for himself. Touching the door of her apartment, he willed the locks to disengage. Shock pinned him to the spot as the door swung open. A ward with a strong protection spell woven into it hovered over the doorway. One only a powerful immortal could cast. Similar to the ones they had at the castle.

He entered, and right off he knew she wasn’t there. He glanced around the place. It reminded him of her, neat and efficient, no frills or fancy things that females often liked. Breathing in her scent caused pain to bloom in his chest. He ached to see her, to hold her.

After checking that the wards were still intact, he walked out of the apartment and willed the locks to re-engage. He was running out of logical places to search and his desperation ate at him, when a thought struck. If she had a nightmare and she was determined to kill the
demonii
, then she’d go back to the place where it occurred.

He called Kira. “Where did her friend die?”

***

Echo drove down Canal Street and stopped near the filthy little alley leading off of it. Her stomach heaved, her skin still clammy from her nightmare. She put the Beetle in park and focused on her dreams from earlier. Closing her eyes, she waited, needing more from her dream—a clue, an inkling to help her find the
demonii
.
Nothing.

She rubbed her arms against the penetrating cold that seemed to have found a way into her car and into her. And wished Aethan were there to hold her—God knew where he was. If he even cared.

Two days. Two horrible days had passed and he hadn’t bothered to return her calls.

Grimly, she pushed those thoughts away and climbed out of her car. She headed down the dark backstreet concealed by a thick fog. The vapor clung to her hair and misted her face. She shivered and tucked her frozen hands into her jacket pockets. She’d forgotten her gloves again. Didn’t matter, she couldn’t fight with them on anyway.

She stared into the hazy alley. It was disturbingly familiar, everything just as she’d remembered it from five years ago.

The stench overwhelming in the moistened heat of summer, she could still smell the rotting garbage, merged with the aroma of soy-cooked food from nearby restaurants. While people enjoyed their dinners, she’d found Tamsyn’s body near a dumpster, lying among the filth, as though carelessly thrown out with the day’s trash. Her bright hair still gleamed with life but her eyes were open and dulled with death.

Echo dragged in several breaths of icy air to ease the old ache in her chest and rubbed at her misty eyes, willing her anger at the loss of her friend to stamp out her grief.

She looked around her. It was a waste of time trolling for
demoniis
tonight. Visibility was close to impossible except for a few feet in front of her. Not a single pulsing red glow to be seen anywhere. It was probably too cold for the fiends.

She turned to head back for her car and there in her peripheral vision, a red spark caught her attention. So, one was brave enough to leave the fires of Hell.

The glow, more crimson than red, came closer, pulsating like a beacon. Adrenalin shot savagely through her veins, sharpening her focus.

Then she saw him. Brown dreads hung loose around his shoulders. It was the demon from the subway.

Lazaar.

Shit! Panic urged her to run, but the memory of Tamsyn’s cold, sightless gaze and ravaged neck had her planting her feet to the asphalt. She slipped her obsidian dagger free from her jeans, the weight of it reassuring as the warmth of the hilt tingled through her hand.

He sauntered over to her. In blatant disregard for the weather, he wore only a dress shirt and pants this time. The fiend doubtless had Hellfire burning in him.

“Yes,” he said, sniffing the air. Joy lightened his pale, frighteningly-handsome face—all the more macabre when he smiled, revealing a set of fangs. But that wasn’t right, he didn’t have—

“I’ve been searching for you.”

“I’m flattered by your devotion. Why don’t you come and get me?”

He laughed in delight. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

His movements a blur, he attacked.

Familiar with their quick maneuvers, she danced back, barely avoiding his grasp, but a wet trail ran along her jaw.