Darkness Unbound (21 page)

“I heard that, asshole,” Nate grumbled from a few feet away in the darkness.

Kane asked, “How long have you been at this, Dakar?”

“A while. Where did you go, Nate?”

No reply.

Dakar asked, “Did you take note of Nate’s location?”

“Hell if I know. I still can’t see shit.” Kane did another scan of the darkness below, which was lit only by a few lights in the aisles. “Screw this. I’ll be right back.” Kane retraced their path to the exit where he’d dropped his bug-out bag. With a relieved sigh he put on his night-vision goggles. He easily wove his way between seat rows to Dakar. “There’s something hot to the west.”

“I detected it. Just remember to use your
special
sword to chest stab it and—”

“Cut its head off. Got it. But you said I was here to observe on this one,” Kane said, unsure how much he retained from his crash course with Eric yesterday on scimitar sword fighting. A gun, no problem. A small blade, even better. But hefting a sword longer than his arm that weighed a ton and seemed to have a mind of its own? He didn’t have a handle on that. He’d deal, when the time came, but he’d suck. Big time.

“Just be at the ready.” Dakar jogged downward toward the stage. Kane envied his ability to manage so easily without goggle assistance.

What was the plan? He despised team uncertainty in potentially violent situations. He longed for the organizational perfection of Astrid when she ran the team as the CO. Even though he outranked her militarily, she was damned better than he at organizing an op. With her at the helm, everyone knew their job and plans A, B, and god-forbid plan C. He unsheathed the sword and smiled. Glow in the dark. Nifty. He pushed the goggles onto his forehead, now able to illuminate his way with the sword.

He hoped Dakar killed the daemon alone. The faster they did this, the faster he’d get back to Astrid. Her depression funk worried him, but he’d let her have her space over the past few days, checking in on her daily, not that she said more than three words to him after giving him the sword. He accepted her atypically quiet unwillingness to interact. She hadn’t tried to off herself, not that he knew if that reflected maternal instinct or desire to live. Damn it…pregnant. Anger burned a hole in his stomach. How could she go back to an abusive bastard? He’d never pegged her as that kind of girl.

Dakar whispered beside him, “I shall engage it.”

Kane jumped. “Where the hell did you come from?”

Dakar chuckled. “Nate should be prepared to enter the fray, but if we are overcome, then it is your duty to dispatch it. However, I request no dragons, at least not until you can control them. Yesterday’s practice with them was not an optimistic exhibition.”

“They’re kind of cute. Just hungry.”

“Cute? They consumed all the outdoor furniture, two cars, and set six trees afire.”

“I think the shitty patio furniture gave them indigestion.” Kane chuckled, but jerked when one of the dragons bit his arm. They must understand him.
Sorry
, he thought to them.

****

Astrid propped her back against the wall in a sitting vigil a few feet away from the toilet. Was she supposed to be this violently ill when less than a week into knowing she was pregnant? She’d tried to make it to the bedroom four times in the past hour, each time ending in a one-eighty dash for the commode. Kira had not only confirmed her pregnancy, but also given her a computer print out on the do’s and do not’s during pregnancy. And placed an online order for a bottle of horse-pill-sized vitamins. The restriction of no soda, caffeine, and alcohol for nine months made her crazy. She dreamed of frothy beer and spent the entire day desiring a tall glass of sugar-free soda, even though neither had been staples of her diet before.

A wave of pain lacerated her side as if she’d been swiped with a blade. A glance down found only her pristine gray T-shirt, beneath which her skin was injury-free.

Fuck, that hurt,
Kane’s voice ripped into her mind.

Kane was fighting? Without her? Why hadn’t he told her he was going into action? Maybe she hadn’t exactly facilitated an open line of communication in the past few days. Panic and fury coalesced. She shot to her feet, all nausea and indulgent self-pity forgotten. Kane might die in the type of unplanned free-for-all the magi daemon slaying entailed. She gargled mouthwash, spat, and rinsed.

She slipped on flip-flops, and checked and chambered the Sig Javen lent her yesterday. The weapon soothed her, even if it wasn’t her favorite model of gun. And it had no hope of doing anything against a daemon. To open the right doorway, she focused on Kane. Seconds later, she stepped into darkness. What were they doing in the dark?

Her eyes required a few seconds to adjust. The blue glow of a sword she recognized illuminated two fighters down near the front of the stadium-style building. She was two tiers up. They were quite a downward jog away. As she descended, a massive daemon lunged from the darkness and swiped its dagger-sharp talons at Dakar who wobbled to a stand after what must’ve been a head bender into something. Kane pushed Dakar out of the talons’ path, catching a glancing blow from the claws along his side. Astrid sucked air when his pain ripped through her.

A shadowed man moved a few rows to her left. She caught the flash of his facial piercings. She called out softly, “Nate, that you?”

“Yeah.”

“You hiding out up here or something?” she asked.

“The daemon launched me up here. I think I was out for a few minutes.”

“I need lights,” Astrid said, her gaze never leaving Kane.
Move left,
she thought hard to Kane. Miraculously, he stepped left out of the daemon’s reach.

“Power’s out,” Nate replied.

“I heard you’re Mr. Electricity. Turn on the lights,” Astrid ordered.

“Don’t know if I can do that.”

“Turn on the goddamned lights, Nate.”

The entire building blasted into brilliant illumination.

“Thanks.” She squinted to shield her screaming retinas and jogged down one tier of stairs to where Nate sat in the aisle massaging his head. Blood dribbled from a three-inch laceration near his hairline. She demanded, “What was your skill in special forces?”

“Sniper.” He pulled himself to a stand using a stadium seat.

She tossed him the gun, which he caught with one hand. “A Sig?” His tone dripped with disdain. He pulled a Kimber from his tactical vest.

“Yeah, I know. Not my choice either. Belongs to Javen.” She swiped her borrowed gun from his hand and holstered. “When I get within fifty yards of that thing, blind it. If you think you can take off a few of those talon-things without hitting me, do it.”

Nate laid his scimitar on a pew and grinned. “Yes, ma’am. You’ll need to stay on its right side for me to have sight. You do realize those things aren’t nice.”

Astrid pushed up her boobs as high as the Christian-special push-up bra could take them, and pulled the shirtfront lower. She smirked. “It’ll be adequately distracted.”

Nate stared at her chest appreciatively. “That’s good. But it’s not human. So, I don’t think it’ll fall for that. You want to borrow my sword?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Nothing with testicles can pass up a boob scan. I’ll borrow Kane’s sword.”

She sprinted toward the pulpit, swiping the Sword of Neith, which lay discarded where it must’ve flown out of Kane’s hands. She mumbled the appropriate words to activate the sword. She yelled, “Kane, move your busted ass away from that thing.”

Kane whirled away from the daemon.

Astrid sauntered toward the daemon with a sultry smile on her face, sword behind her back. The daemon looked at her chest as if momentarily dazed.
Now, Nate.
As if on cue, two shots rang out. The daemon howled and clawed at its eyes. Another two shots and two talons gone. She hefted the sword into a wide arc. Surprisingly, it severed the creature’s head smoothly, unlike Javen’s sword the other day. With a chest stab, the daemon dissolved into mist.

She jumped away from the swirling malicious fog, twisting her ankle in the process. She landed on her ass. “Shit.” Talk about ruining a spectacular moment.

“What the hell was that about?” Kane yelled. He stalked toward her and pointed at her chest. His gaze lingered on her cleavage.

Astrid glanced up. “I blew out my flip-flop.” She held up the popped sandal.

He frowned at the sandal. “What was that about you flashing a daemon? What are you doing here?” Kane held out his hand to help her to a stand, his action at odds with the furious tone.

“Worked, didn’t it?” She grinned up at him, relieved that he lived. That relief spooked her since it was far more than just a friend happy to have saved a colleague’s life. She took in the sharp planes of his nose, the strong set of his chin, and his powerful body cloaked in tactical gear. She couldn’t drag enough air into her lungs and couldn’t focus on anything in this church other than the enraged, sexy soldier in front of her.

Kane fisted his hands at his side. “You just decided to saunter through a portal in your PJs and flash some skin? You can’t do that pregnant.”

The lust haze fizzled. She poked him in the chest. “You did not just pull the pregnancy card on me.”

His gaze narrowed and cheek muscle spasmed. His eyes darted southward to her chest. A red flush spread over his cheeks. “It’s irresponsible.”

“Irresponsible? Like throwing your undertrained ass in front of a daemon to save Dakar isn’t insane?” She poked him again.

He grabbed her hand. “Stop that. I don’t need a half-dressed woman to save me.”

“News flash: she just did.” She met his gaze dead-on refusing to be intimidated by two hundred fifty plus pounds of gorgeous angry male.

“Why are you here? You’ve been holed up in that room forever.” He changed his tone to a high-pitched feminine whine. “Oh, poor me. My ex-boyfriend that tried to murder me died.”

She whispered, “You were hurt.” She thought to him,
I felt it.

His eyes widened. With a subtle headshake, she suspected he just rejected her mental communication. His cheeks darkened as if he was about to explode.

Had he always been so utterly hot? Protective and stubborn she knew well from him. But the way his left cheek muscles continued their spasm and how he stood at least a head or two taller than her, making her feel petite and feminine which was no small feat…oh my. The pieces of her heart snapped together. Unlike Zannis, she trusted Kane. She’d gladly die for him, and already had tried to on several occasions. He was the best friend who’d saved her more times than she had fingers. Right now she recognized the signs of an imminent explosion. She pulled his head to her mouth. One touch of their lips, and her world tilted. She clutched his forearms and leaned into him with a relieved sigh. He pulled her tight to his body, pressing the hot length of his arousal into the V of her thighs.
So right.
This man brought on something no one else had ever touched, not even Zannis. It wasn’t just the combination of lust and need she recognized from Zannis, or the blossoming of long-dead emotion; it was simple happiness.

Then, he pushed her away. “Stop distracting me.” He ran a shaky hand through his spiky blond hair.

She bit her lip against a grin at how off kilter she’d thrown the most got-his-shit-together soldier. Her gaze traveled slowly southward to the evidence of how much he wanted her.

He said, “Stop it. I’m goddamned pissed at you. You can’t be doing this kind of crazy. I don’t meant the kiss. That was…shit. You can’t be daemon fighting.”

Indignant fury surged. “You don’t get to decide what I can or cannot do, especially when you’re in over your head.” She pointed at his bleeding side and then at the expanding portal to their left, which she must’ve started opening on instinct. “You need the medic. Go through that doorway and get Kira to do her thing. You can rant at me later. Let me round up Nate and Dakar.”

Kane swiped his nightvisions and sword off the ground, cursing under his breath. He jogged toward the entry to grab what she recognized as his bugout bag, and then headed for the portal.

Astrid released a relieved sigh. At least he still listened to her, which proved he trusted her. He never gave up trying to boss her around, even though she almost always got her way.

The second he disappeared, Nate laughed. “Kane is just pissed that a girl saved his ass.”

Astrid narrowed her gaze on him. “You think because I’ve got ovaries I can’t do this?”

“You just proved having tits helps.” He eyed her chest.

Astrid landed a palm strike to Nate’s chest hard enough to push him into the wooden support column behind him. She yanked his knife from his tactical vest and held it against his neck at his neck just below his chin. “Give me shit for being a girl one more time, and I’ll cut off each finger and shove them down your throat until you suffocate.”

“What? Not going to threaten cutting off my balls?” Nate grinned.

“Fingers are much more painful. Want to find out?”

His eyes widened as he tensed his neck away from the blade. “What special forces did you serve on?”

She stared into Nate’s dark blues, which swirled with black sludge, and forced herself not to blink. She’d dealt with this kind of young hotshot male bullshit once too often. “CIA. Field agent.” She pressed the knife deeper into his neck until he bled. “Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She took a step back and handed him his blade handle first.

Nate retrieved the blade with a curse and cheek flush. She bet he didn’t like being disarmed so easily by a girl.

Dakar rested on the lowest level near the piano. From bleeding forehead to the gaping midsection laceration, he was a hot mess of bruising and blood. “You ready to go home?”

His pain-laced gaze shot upward to hers. He nodded. “I need the
akhrian.
”

“I’ll take you through a portal, which will have us to her immediately, but I can’t carry you. You think you can manage to stand?”

He pulled himself up, using the piano. She scooted under his shoulders and glanced back at Nate. “You get to drive home or take the plane or however you got here. Just make sure to get any equipment we left behind.” She reached for the energy to open yet another doorway, focusing on Kira.