Gena Showalter - [Lords of the Underworld 13] (35 page)

She had examined the cases of the men and women her father had kept down here, and had found out that most had done nothing more serious than annoy him...or have something he’d wanted. So, she’d released the “offenders” and given them bags of gold from the royal treasury. The money couldn’t make up for the pain they’d endured, and the years they’d lost, but it was a start.

Rather than keep the remaining prisoners out front, their arms shackled above their heads for all to come and view, she’d placed each individual in a cage, and she’d made sure they were far enough away from each other that they couldn’t talk and plan an escape.

The first cage belonged to her father.

She peered through the bars. He paced at the far wall, muttering to himself about the injustice of his circumstances. His clothes were ripped, dirty, and his hair tangled.

He spotted her and froze. “You,” he said on a sizzle of breath. “Let me out. Now.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You earned your place down here. I’m still trying to fix the messes you created for an entire race of people.”

“People that belong to me. I can do whatever I choose with them.”

“Not anymore.”

His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Did you come down here hoping to buy my love? To taunt me with what I lost, and promise to give it back if only I’ll acknowledge you?”

She laughed without humor, and he blinked in confusion. “The time for that passed long ago. And no, I didn’t come down here to taunt you.”

“Whatever your reason, it was a mistake.” He raced to the bars and reached through, wrapping his fingers around her neck. She could have avoided contact—but she hadn’t wanted to.

As he squeezed, she curled her ungloved hands around his wrist and drew from him. Strength. The abilities he possessed.

He tried to sever the connection, but the suction was simply too powerful.

When finally she released him, his knees collapsed and he toppled to the floor.

“Thanks for that,” she said. Her muscles buzzed with energy. Her blood crackled. “It’s why I came. You see, I’m not going to survive the morning, and I’m hoping your abilities will die with me, leaving you as helpless as the people you’ve hurt.”

As he roared a denial, she moved on to the next hall of cells and came to the queen’s personal quarters. The female was just as dirty as the king, but she turned her back on Josephina, as if she still couldn’t bear to speak with her.

“I’m proof of his infidelity. You hate me. I get it.”

Silence. Not even the rasp of breath.

“I was an innocent party in all of this,” Josephina added, determined to say her piece. “I was a child. I was lonely and scared, and desperately wanted someone to love me. My mother was a woman trapped by circumstance. No one in this realm said no to the king, and you know that. She didn’t want a married man, but rather than help her escape his notice, you shunned her.”

Annnd, still nothing.

In a secret place in her heart, she had wanted an apology. An acknowledgment. She would never get it, though, and wouldn’t spend another second hoping for it, wasting this precious energy.

Sighing, she moved on to Synda’s cell. The girl had heard her and was waiting for her, fingers twined around the bars.

“Let me out,” the princess begged. “Please.”

Josephina opened her mouth to pour out every hurt this girl had caused, to voice every wrong she’d had to endure, but she stopped herself. Synda would listen, but she wouldn’t hear. She would nod, but she wouldn’t truly understand. She would tell Josephina everything she longed to be told, Josephina would free her, and Synda would forget what she’d promised. Unlike Kane, the girl had never fought the evil inside her.

“I’ll let Kane decide what to do with you.” She reached through the bars and cupped her sister’s cheeks. “You need help. I don’t know who you are without the demon, and maybe you don’t, either, but it
is
possible to fight the demon’s whims.”

Tears cascaded from the corners of Synda’s eyes. “I know. I just don’t know how to do that.”

“Talk to Kane. He may not like you at first, but if you’re honest with him, if you’re sincere about wanting help, he’ll come around. Goodbye, Synda.” With that, Josephina released her and walked to her brother’s cell.

He was sitting in the corner, close to the bars, and facing her. His knees were drawn up, and his head propped against the wall.

“You look well,” he said.

She ignored the compliment, saying, “You aren’t going to beg me to free you?”

“Why should I? For the first time, I’m not looking over my shoulder, expecting death.”

“Oh, please.” He’d had the pampered, privileged life she’d always envied.

“It’s true, Josephina. Every day I expected death to come for me.”

“I don’t see why...unless you treated other girls the way you treated me. You should have been my friend.”

He shrugged. “I wanted to be more. I still do.”

“You’re my brother.”

“I’m not.”

She frowned. “Of course you are.”

He laughed bitterly. “You think you were the only child born out of wedlock? You think the king was the only one to have affairs in the years of his marriage? He let me know in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t his child, I was the queen’s, but that he was keeping me because he needed an heir.”

She...actually believed him, little facts sitting up in her mind. He looked nothing like Tiberius and never had. The king had always been distant with him. Had always chosen Synda over him. Why had she never suspected?

Shock rattled her knees. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Had anyone found out, I would have been killed.” Another bitter laugh. “Actually, if any of his women had ever had a boy, I would have been killed. I lived day by day. I knew you understood that, and thought it bonded us.”

It would have. If she’d known. “I would have kept your secret, if only you’d been my friend. I needed your support, not your lust.”

He traced a symbol on the floor. “Does your...husband treat you well?”

“He does.”

“And you like him?”

“I love him.”

Sadness darkened his features. “If you ever want him killed, come see me. I’ll take care of it for you.”

She stood there for a moment, thinking about what could have been between them. Not romance. Never that, even without the blood tie. But companionship. Affection. Support. “Tell Kane what you told me. I’m not sure he’ll show you mercy. You forced your attentions on me, after all, but he might let you live. A part of me likes the thought of you finally finding peace.”

He smiled sadly. “I never would have forced you, you know. I just wanted the chance to prove how good we could be, despite what you believed about us.”

Maybe it was naive of her, but she believed that, too. “Goodbye, Leopold.”

He shouted as she walked away, his voice dripping with concern—
that sounded like a permanent goodbye, Josephina
—but she kept going.

Back in her bedroom, she found Kane sleeping soundly on the bed. She reached out and removed the ring from his finger, the key to his future, then smoothed her hands over his brow, the need to touch him too strong to ignore. He leaned into her, his lips curling at the corners.

Goodbye, my love.

As if he’d heard the heart-wrenching cry inside her, he cracked open his eyelids. “Tink. Get back in bed, sweetheart. Let me hold you.”

“Sleep, darling,” she said.

“Hmm.”

To ensure he stayed down, she used the same move he’d used on her, squeezing his carotid until he returned to his dreams.

Then, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist, closed her eyes and drew the darkness out of him and into her, just like she’d done that night in the forest. Before, the demon had entered her with a vengeance. This time, he was too weak to scream obscenities. He was merely a heavy weight inside her, a presence in the back of her mind.

She released Kane the moment she knew the demon was with her, not wanting to take his strength, too.

His features smoothed out, and he smiled again, so peaceful her chest ached. He must have sensed, on some level, that he was now alone.

No question, she’d made the right decision.

“I love you,” she said, and kissed his temple. “Never forget.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

K
ANE
AWOKE
AS
sunlight poured through
the open curtains. He sat up with a jolt.

Morning.

He jumped out of bed, then cringed, hoping his abruptness
hadn’t woken Tink. But she wasn’t in the bed, he realized. He quickly dressed
and left the room. She was probably in the breakfast nook.

It was better this way, he thought. He’d already said goodbye
the only way he could. If he were to see her now, he might change his mind. He
might break down and cry. If he told her the truth—and she would insist on the
truth, and he would give it because he was unable to deny her anything—she would
try and stop him. He might let her. Anything for more time with her.

To avoid the guards and servants, he used the secret passageway
to get to the garden, and why was his torso burning? He stopped long enough to
look under his clothes, and blinked. The butterfly tattoo had faded
significantly. Because the demon was dying?

In the warmth and light of the new day, he felt strangely calm
and burden free, considering he was about to die. He felt...lighter.

When he turned the corner, he saw Malcolm and Tink standing
several yards away. Shock stopped him in his tracks.

“—the ring, just like you wanted,” Tink said, placing something
in the warrior’s hand.

Malcolm looked down at her. “As thrilled as I am to have it, my
deal was with Kane.”

“And now it’s with me. I absorbed the demon and now carry him
in
my
body.”

The Sent One frowned. “You don’t look as if you carry the
demon.”

“That’s because he’s too weak to cause any trouble.”

The conversation confused Kane. He fingered the ring on
his—bare skin, he realized. The ring was gone.

Dread slithered through him.

“Without the demon, Kane is going to die, anyway,” Malcolm
said. “Why should I help you achieve the same fate?”

“He’s going to... No! I won’t believe that.”

“Nevertheless, it’s true.”

“But...but....” She went still, as if she couldn’t even bare to
breathe. “He never experienced the life he dreamed of...a life free of Disaster.
He should know how it feels to be at peace before he dies, and I can give him
that chance, even if only for a little while.”

“And you’re willing to give your life for that chance? Take a
moment. Think about this. Once it’s done, it cannot be undone.”

“I have thought about it. I want to do it here, now.”

Malcolm nodded. “Very well. My bargain is now with you.” He
held out his hand and a sword of fire appeared.

In that moment, a sickening realization dawned. Tink had taken
the ring, and she’d taken the demon, and she now planned to take Kane’s
place.

She was going to die in his stead, simply to give him a few
days, maybe a few weeks, without the demon.

“No!” Kane screamed. “No! Don’t you dare!”

But it was too late.

Malcolm had already been in the process of striking. The fire
pierced her chest, and her scream of pain shattered every corridor of his
heart.

“No!” he cried. “No!”

The sword slid out of her and Kane saw a gap the size of his
fist.

Tink collapsed. And Malcolm vanished.

Kane dropped to his knees and roared up at the sky.

* * *

I
N
A
DAZE
,
when the shock of what he’d witnessed had worn off, but not the horror, never
the horror, Kane crawled to his wife, gathered her in his arms and cradled her
precious body against his chest. He held her for what seemed an eternity, but it
couldn’t have been more than an hour.

There was no blood on her or him. The sword had cauterized the
wound, and it wasn’t right. He should be covered in her blood, should have
tangible evidence of the pain she had endured. He should have to wear it, a
constant reminder of the disaster he had allowed—even without the demon living
inside him. He
needed
to see his shame. His grief.
His failure. Something, anything, but this...nothingness.

Nothingness. Yes. That’s all he had now.

His wife, his love, was gone. For nothing! Didn’t she know he
could not have peace without her?

Tears must have been brewing at the back of his eyes because
they suddenly spouted out, like rivers of anguish. He sobbed like a baby, and he
didn’t care who saw him. Guards and Opulens came up to him and tried to talk to
him, to learn what had happened, but he snarled and sent them running away.

“How could you do this?” he demanded of Tink. But he already
knew the answer, didn’t he. She’d loved his life more than her own. “How?”

He brushed his fingers through the softness of her hair—her
blond
hair? Yes. Blond. Even her features had
changed. She looked like Petra, and he had a moment of hope, thinking Petra had
died and not his wife. But then her hair and features changed again, and he
found himself peering down at someone he didn’t recognize.

When she changed a third time, and the strange image remained
for an hour, then another, realization hit him and all hope withered. This was
Tink, the blonde in the painting, and she was dead.

She had drained the Phoenix, acquiring the girl’s ability to
shift identities, that was all. Because, now that the shifting had stopped,
whatever spark had tried to ignite had been extinguished.

His Tink was dead, and she wasn’t ever coming back.

He howled up at the sky.

He had his freedom now, but the price had been too high.

He wanted to lash out, to kill someone, destroy something, but
he couldn’t bear to release his Tink. So he sat there, even as the sun
disappeared behind clouds and rain poured. He sat there as day turned to
night.

Malcolm appeared a few feet away, his skin pallid, his lips
compressed into a hard line.

A growl rose in Kane’s throat.

“I know I’m the last person you wish to see right now, but I
must tell you what I’ve learned. I...went to my leader, told him what I’d done.
He has assured me you will survive the removal of your demon, just as the girl
wished.”

Well, what do you know? Kane could release his wife, after all.
He stood, his hands fisted. “I might survive, but you won’t.”

The Sent One raised his chin. “Hear me out, warrior.”

“How could you kill her? You are forbidden from taking human
life, and she was half human.”

“The moment she accepted your demon, I stopped seeing her that
way.”

“That doesn’t change your rules.”

“No, nor does it change my circumstances. I was going to be
punished either way.”

Will...kill...

But the warrior wasn’t finished. “I was wrong when I told you
that you would be emptied out. Your cup wasn’t spilled over. Water was poured
inside, slowly displacing the oil. Now, you’re filled with the water...with
love. I’m...sorry for your wife’s death.”

“Doesn’t matter now.” He withdrew two daggers.

The Sent One sighed. “You don’t want to fight me.”

“You’re right. I want to murder you.” He launched one of the
daggers, aiming for Malcolm’s neck, but he vanished, and the weapon soared past
him, embedding in a tree. Then, he reappeared.

Kane threw the other dagger, and the Sent One performed the
same move.

He advanced. They’d settle this with their hands, then.

“Your woman.” Frowning, Malcolm tilted his head to the side as
he looked beyond Kane’s shoulder. “She’s on fire.”

Kane spun, seeing flames dance at the end of her big toes. Once
again, hope ignited as he realized what was happening. If she had retained
Petra’s abilities, she could rise from her own ashes.

But what if Petra had been close to the final death?

He watched, desperate, as the flame spread to Tink’s other
toes...to her ankles. Her knees. Her waist. Her shoulders...her head. Until she
was engulfed.

She began to wither. A pile of ashes formed.

Then, nothing. The flames vanished.

Another hope destroyed.

Kane erupted.

He tore out hunks of earth. He kicked and punched trees.
He—

Was blown backward by an intense wave of heat. He rolled to a
stop and jumped to his feet. Beside him, Malcolm did the same. Another fire now
raged, this one crackling over the ashes, lifting them, swirling them
together.

Please,
he thought.
Please
.

A female form came into view, floating in the center of the
flames. Tink’s face took shape, then her hair, and body, and his heart nearly
burst from his chest.

She opened her eyes, and the flames died in an instant. Her
naked form fell to the ground, and she hmphed, losing her breath.

Breath. She had breath.

It had worked!

Kane dropped to his knees, the rush of relief too much for
him.

She held up a trembling arm, twisted it in the light, then held
up the other. “I’m really here.” Her eyes widened. “Kane, I’m really here!”

He lumbered to his feet, staggered over to her. He needed to
touch her. Like, now. Emotion clogged his throat as he fell at her feet and
gathered her in his arms. “I’ve never been so glad to watch someone catch fire,”
he said, squeezing her tight. “You reformed, sweetheart. You reformed.”

“But only the Phoenix can do—” Realization dawned on her
beautiful face. “The Phoenix! I took from her.”

“Yes.” A miracle of perfect timing. A choice...and a
destiny.

“William must have killed her,” Malcolm said. “That’s the only
way Josephina would have retained the ability. Which means, it hasn’t faded and
it won’t. She’s no longer half human. She’s fully immortal, though it appears
her ability is weaker than that of other Phoenix. They usually catch fire
moments after the deathblow is struck.”

Kane had thought his tear ducts had dried, and yet, droplets
rained down his cheeks. Tink. Fully immortal. His forever. “Thank you,” he said,
the words for Tink, for Malcolm and his leader. “Thank you so much.”

Malcolm looked to the sky, paused and might even have smiled.
“I have been told to tell you the baby reformed with his mother. Though he is
only a few days old, he is specially gifted, and very strong.” After dropping
that bombshell, he vanished.

A baby. A boy.

To know this soon...

Kane almost couldn’t process the news. Reverently his hand
moved to his wife’s still-flat stomach.

Her eyes were wide and luminous. Then she laughed, joyous. “A
baby, Kane.”

“Are you happy?”

“More than I ever thought possible. I always thought my gift
and my circumstances were a blessing and a curse, but all along they’ve been a
blessing, never a curse. I’m alive, and we’re going to have a baby, a baby that
will be free—and you’re free, Kane. You’re free! The demon is dead. He’s no
longer a part of you or me.”

He buried his face in the hollow of her neck, breathed her in.
“What you did for me...I’ll never be able to repay you. The price you paid...the
pain you just endured...” He shuddered. “Don’t you ever do anything like that
again. I need you. You’re mine. We belong together.”

“Now and forever.”

He pulled back to peer into her eyes. The stitches had burned
from her cheek and the swelling had gone down, but even still, a jagged six-inch
line stretched over her skin. The hole in her chest had been filled, but there
was a big, puckered scar.

“The injuries happened before you were fully immortal, so the
evidence of them will never go away, I bet,” he said.

“Are they bad?” she asked, rubbing the scar on her chest.

“Bad? They’re amazing. Like you. Badges of courage—of your love
for me.” He searched the rest of her, groaned. “We need to cover you up.” He
tore off his shirt and tugged it over her head, concealing her bare breasts. He
removed his pants and handed the material to her, leaving him in his
underwear.

She smiled, a big happy smile. “The women are going to be
drooling over you.”

“They can drool, but they can’t touch.”

“Because you’re mine,” she said, “just like I’m yours.”

“Forever,” he said.

“Forever,” she agreed.

A forever that would be very busy. “I want this kingdom at
peace before our son arrives. I want Cameo and Viola found, and my debt to the
Sent Ones paid. I’ll have to help them find the demons that killed their
king.”

“Together, we can do anything.”

He kissed her, soft and sweet. “For now, I’m only interested in
holding you, feeling your heart beat against mine, and proving you really are
alive.”

“I think you want to remove my clothes,” she replied
huskily.

He kissed her again, this time strong and sure. “Yes, but the
removal of clothing is only step one.”

“And step two?”

“Come. I’ll show you.”

* * * * *

The Sent Ones keep heating up the skies as
their adventure continues. Don’t miss
BURNING DAWN,
the next book in Gena
Showalter’s captivating ANGELS OF THE DARK series, coming soon from Harlequin
HQN!