Darkness Reborn (Order of the Blade #5) (20 page)

Sarah never wanted the moment to end.

As she lay in Kane's arms, their perspiration-slicked bodies wrapped around each other, fear began to trickle in, seeping past the euphoria of the moment. She knew she was lost to him. He'd worked his way past all her shields right into her heart, taking root so deeply she knew she would never get him out.

The last time she had loved, the man she'd trusted had killed her daughter. How could she be so sure that she was right this time? She'd had a lifetime to know Mason, and she'd still been wrong. How long had she known Kane? How could she be certain the goodness in him would trump the vast amount of darkness amassing inside of him?

Because the violence inside him was definitely getting stronger. She'd been shocked when he'd bared his soul to her this time. The first time they'd made love, she'd felt darkness inside him, but there'd also been that gaping void of nothingness. Now, the void was gone. It had been filled with taint and violence, poison, all the things she'd sensed at the pit.

There was still that goodness, but it was almost buried now, being eaten away by all the darkness within him. She'd wanted to save him. She'd felt his despair, his loss of hope, and it had eviscerated her to know he was feeling such pain, and she'd wanted to bring light back into his soul.

She had, somewhat, but the moment she had, the darkness had begun to fight, trying to stake its claim on him. What was he? What would triumph? And would she know whether to trust him or not? She swallowed, reminding herself that there was no baby at stake this time, no added connection between them to blur the lines, to make her trust more than she should. Never would she have imagined it was possible for Mason to murder his own baby girl, and that had been her downfall, that was why she'd been so slow to attack him with her light; she simply hadn't realized the extent of the danger. Maybe, without a child to protect, with only her own life at stake, she would be better able to judge.

Sarah took a deep breath, realizing the truth of that. She wasn't the same naive girl she'd been when she'd trusted Mason. She'd seen him turn. She'd seen her brother turn. She'd let herself see and feel the evil inside Kane. She no longer lived in a cocoon of naiveté.

She was not the girl who would make the same mistake again.

"Sarah." Kane's voice was muffled against her neck, where he'd nestled in after making love to her.

"What?" She ran her hand over his forearm, tracing the brand that defined him as a Calydon, the race of warriors that were brought to this village to wipe out angels. Part demon, part man, they had one mission, and that was to destroy the angels.

"We're going back to the pit," Kane said.

She swallowed, unable to stop the ripple of fear or the burst of adrenaline and excitement. "Yes."

"I almost lost you tonight when Luc tried to suck you in there." He set his hand on her belly, and Sarah felt a tremor of heat in response. "I can't let that happen again."

"It worked out fine—"

"No." He rolled on top of her suddenly, his eyes blazing. "If you had been drawn into that pit, I would have lost you forever. You say you wouldn't have died from it because that's not how to kill you, but by God, Sarah, I would have spent an eternity knowing that you were suffering the worst hell possible in there."

A cold chill settled in Sarah's bones, but she tried to push it away. She could not let fear debilitate her. "I can't worry about that, Kane. I have to go back—"

"
I
can worry about it." His eyes were shadowed and turbulent, filled with the darkness that was building inside him. "I need to be able to find you, Sarah. No matter what. If we blood-bond, I'll be able to track you."

"Oh..." She grimaced, thinking of how that could go against her if he turned out to be her greatest enemy. The blood bond was one of the stages of the
sheva
bond, and they had so few stages left to go before their bond was finalized and inextricable. Mason had turned on her after the bond was complete, and she was well aware of the Order's destiny of turning on their mates and going rogue. She didn't need the extra risk. She really didn't. "I don't think—"

"Your brother will be awakened in the morning by my team," Kane said. "He can find you, and he will. At dusk tomorrow night, if not sooner, he will teleport in here and try to grab you. I
have
to be able to follow you if he gets you away from me."

Sarah closed her eyes at the reminder of the threat coming for her. There was no way to lie to herself. Jacob would be coming for her. He, like Mason, was at the mercy of Luc Acostos, who was somehow, some way, turning them all against her. Would he also be able to turn Kane?

Kane gripped her shoulders. "Look at me, Sarah."

She opened her eyes. His eyes were blazing with heat and determination. In that moment, he looked like a warrior, a protector, not a male who would succumb to the hell trying to take him. She felt like she could turn herself over to him and he would make sure everything would work out okay. Crap! What was the right choice?

"I won't turn on you," Kane said fiercely. He grabbed her arm and showed her his brand on her flesh. "This mark is stronger than anything else. I'm incapable of hurting you—"

"What about the
sheva
destiny? That the moment the bond is complete you will go rogue and destroy everything we both care about. You'll kill me, Kane, and I will kill you, and everything that matters will be gone."

His eyes glittered. "I thought you said that doesn't happen in this town."

Sarah pushed him off her and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. "It doesn't happen with the local males who are turned Calydon from our woods," she said. "But you're not from here."

Kane propped himself up on his elbow, studying her. "What are you talking about?"

Sarah pressed her lips together, thinking of how many thousands of hours she'd poured into the situation at the village, trying to understand how to stop it. "The original Calydons were created two thousand years ago, from that waterfall tainted with demon magic. You all are descended from those warriors, and you carry their bloodlines." She ran her hand over the mark on her arm, the mark that had erased Mason's. "But in this town, becoming a Calydon isn't genetic. None of these males came from Calydon lines. They were regular people who got turned by living here." She looked at him. "They're the next generation of Calydons, Kane."

"They're different," Kane agreed. "With the claws and their nocturnal tendencies. Plus, they can all teleport. With the exception of the original Calydon who was the progenitor of our race, I'm the only Calydon I know who can teleport except these guys—" He stopped suddenly, and she knew they were both thinking the same thing.

Was Kane a creation of Luc's? Was that why he could teleport like them?

"I don't have claws," Kane said. "And I don't change at night."

"But you teleport."

"I do." He rolled onto his back and draped his forearm over his face. "Did the original Calydons who threatened the village have claws? Were they nocturnal? The ones from six or seven hundred years ago? When I would have been around?"

"I don't know the details. It was long ago." Sarah bit her lip, and for a long moment, there was simply silence between them, the great unknown about what and who Kane really was. If he was Los Muerte, then whatever goodness was in his heart hadn't been enough to stop him from killing his own
sheva
and child the first time. If he wasn't Los Muerte...then what was he? She felt tension radiating off him, and suddenly she was filled with empathy for him. How terrifying to not know who you were, what you'd done, or what you were capable of. How did one live with that?

"I have a dream," Kane said quietly. "It haunts me almost every time I go to sleep."

Sarah turned her head so she could see him. He was staring at the ceiling, his face dimly lit from the spotlights shining outside the shuttered windows, the ones lighting up the grounds to try to keep the night crawlers away. "What dream?"

For a minute, he didn't answer, and she thought he wasn't going to tell her. Then, finally, he did. "I have a dream that I'm walking through a field. There are people having a picnic in the field. Lots of people. Mothers. Fathers. Children. Dogs. There are flowers. The sun is shining. Music is playing. It's..." She felt his struggle to find the right words. "It's like heaven in a little corner of the earth."

Sarah propped herself up on her elbow to watch him. "Is it a place you've been?"

Kane shook his head. "I don't know. I never know." He closed his eyes, and she could feel him willing away the emotions that were trying to surface. She could sense how hard he was trying to remain impassive. "I'm walking through the field," he said quietly, "And there's this little girl sitting by a stream. She's got blond hair and little pigtails."

Sarah tensed. Her daughter had had blond hair and pigtails. "How old is she?"

"Around five," Kane said.

Her daughter had been less than a year. Not the same.
Not the same.
"What happened?"

"I walk up to her," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "She looks up at me and smiles. She holds her arms up to me and gives me this huge smile. She's missing her bottom two front teeth, and I tell her she looks like a big girl."

Sarah's heart began to race at the waves of tension flooding from him, especially the raw terror he was struggling to hold back. "Kane?"

"She looks up at me," he said, grief thickening in his voice, "And calls me Daddy." He pressed his hands to his face, and suddenly Sarah could feel all his emotions as he got sucked back in that moment. The intense pride, the awe that he could have created someone so amazing, still unable to believe that she was his. "She's so beautiful," he whispered. "Dimples. These bright blue eyes. And so smart. Shit." His breathing became labored, his hands curled into fists. "My daughter," he whispered, and she knew in that moment that the vision was real, at least to him, truly. "So beautiful."

"What happens in the dream, Kane?" Sarah could feel the grief already welling up inside him. The self-hate.

"She's reaching for me, to hug me, and I call out my flail." His voice broke then. "I murder her, Sarah. In cold blood. I murder her. And as I'm sinking my weapon into her beautiful heart, she looks at me and says, 'But you promised, Daddy. Daddies aren't supposed to break their promises.' And then..." He swore and his voice broke. "I kill her, then turn and walk away. Jesus." He pressed his palms to his eyes, and Sarah felt his body shaking with grief, with the reality of his dream.

"Kane, it's just a dream—"

"How the fuck do I know that?" He sat up suddenly, his muscles shaking violently. He turned toward her, his face so stark and raw that her soul broke for him. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have that dream night after night, and to have no idea if it's actually a memory of who you once were? For over five hundred years, I've lived with that dream and wondered if that's who I really was." He called out his flail with a crack and flash of black light. Then he hurled it against the wall. It cracked the boards and sank into the wood, sending splinters all over the room. "I spent the last five hundred years trying to save every fucking innocent I could find, protecting them from rogue Calydons who were turning on their families. But the whole time I was doing it, I knew I might be the exact man that the Order was created to destroy."

His agony was heartbreaking, so deeply entrenched in his soul that Sarah knew then, in that moment, that she could trust him. No man could feel that level of pain and regret and still lose his heart to the blackness swirling around the village.

Kane was her man, and she could trust him. "Blood bond with me," she said.

Kane swung around to face her, his eyes bleak with despair. "What?"

She held up her arm, and as she did, she saw another line forming on her arm. "Trust," she whispered. "You trusted me with your deepest secret, didn't you? That was it."

He stared at her mark. "I've never told anyone."

Sarah pulled him close, his body so rigid he almost didn't even respond. "I trust you," she said. "Blood bond with me."

Kane couldn't believe what she was saying. After the story he'd just told, the one that seemed to provide further evidence for the fact he was Los Muerte and had killed his own son, Sarah should be running away from him. Not offering herself to him. "I don't understand," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Didn't you hear what I said? Don't you realize that it confirms that I might be Los Muerte? That the images I saw at the pit were real?" He swore. "For God's sake, Sarah, I had that dream before I heard any of this stuff. Because it's there. It's a part of me. And it's been there all along—"

"If it has," she said, her voice strong and firm, "it's who you used to be, not who you are now."

Her conviction plunged straight past his shields, right into the very depths of his soul, where something slowly, ever so slowly, began to flicker to life. Hope. Hope that he wasn't the bastard he'd seen in his dream for so long. "How is that possible?"

She set her hand on his chest, over his heart. "Because your heart has become too strong."

Kane pressed his hand over hers, as if he could burn it into his chest. "Shit, Sarah, I don't know—"

"I do." She scooted over and straddled him, sitting low across his hips. Her eyes were clear and blue, blazing with fierce conviction. "This is what I know," she said. "We have to take out Luc tomorrow night, and we have to do it before Jacob finds me. After Luc is dead, maybe Jacob has a chance. Luc is...he's so powerful, Kane. Our only chance is for us to team up, truly team up, and do it together." She held up her hand, and Kane's flail worked itself free of the wall, streaked across the room and slammed into her palm with a loud smack.