His Dark Bond (28 page)

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Authors: Anne Marsh

BOOK: His Dark Bond
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C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-TWO
O
h, God. The first two breaths were an agony, her lungs struggling to keep up the inhale-and-exhale routine even as the blade erupted through her heart and out her back, and the sight of Zer’s face only made the pain worse. His eyes never met hers, never left the traitorous Dominion standing behind her, his arm locked around her neck. The sharp curse behind her was the last thing she heard before her body shut down and gave up the losing battle.
Her spirit rose up and out, clearly done with her body. She fought panic for a moment. This was going to be okay. It had to be okay. Still, she couldn’t stop staring at her body. Zer’s blade had pierced her heart, gone straight through her and planted the business end of all that metal deep in Cuthah’s own body. She supposed that should have been satisfying, but nothing could have prepared her for the sheer horror of watching her body slide down that ruthless blade, the unmistakably bad sign of blood everywhere.
She wanted to say something, because this was the moment she was supposed to go all poetic, wasn’t it? She knew instinctively that she had maybe seconds left, and somehow that time needed to count for something. But there was no way to shoehorn a lifetime of emotion—of living—into the handful of seconds she had left. Instead, all she got out was his name—and damned if it didn’t sound more like a prayer—and then she was sucked ruthlessly away by an unseen power. As if she’d been wrapped in warm, bright cotton wool, she shot up and out of her body and the lab as if she’d spent a lifetime waiting for this moment.
Oh, God. She really was dead.
Air popped around her as her feet hit ground, depositing her somewhere unfamiliar. Instinctively, she knew she wasn’t in the world anymore. There was nothing, however, that could have prepared her for her first sight of the Heavens, the wide, low plain spreading away from her. By now, Zer had to know what he’d done. He had to have seen the damage he’d done to her. Did he care? She had to believe that he did. Tentatively, she tested their bond. The connection was stretched thin, vibrating with tension. Like listening to a tinny, overseas phone call on some Third World infrastructure.
Hold on
.
She waited, but there was no further message from the other side. Okay. Looking cautiously around, she took in the intense, saturated colors of the plain. The air was warm but not too warm. On the horizon, a silver and glass city soared up into the sky. And the sky, God, the colors of the sky made her wish she’d been a painter and not a geneticist. Words didn’t begin to do the azure sky justice.
Mountains surrounded the plain, and it looked as if the cosmic express she’d just taken had punched straight through the dark rock. That ride had seemed to last forever and yet take no time at all. Maybe that was how death worked. It wasn’t as if she’d done this before.
The sound hit her first. A pretty little melody of birds singing. There was wind, too. Exactly like one of those relaxation soundtracks they sold down at the drugstore. Too perfect. Her body was all light and ghostlike. When she held her hands up in front of her face, she could see right through them. Definitely, not one of her better days.
She wanted to go back. She wanted Zer.
The soft beat of wings approaching convinced her now was not a good time for self-pity. She needed to pick a plan and get with it. Because, when her head came up, there was a glowing angel winging toward her. She didn’t know if her day was about to get better—or worse.
God, she didn’t know what to do.
She wanted to just sit down and think things through, but time was a luxury she sensed she didn’t have. Zer was fighting for his life, and she couldn’t bear the thought of his losing. She hadn’t been able to do anything for him. She looked behind her, and it was like looking through the wrong end of a kaleidoscope, an unearthly window into the hellhole of her office.
From her office came a low, guttural sound that reminded her of a wounded animal and a keen of metal on metal like nails on a chalkboard. The sound advertised, loud and clear: death coming here. She could almost smell the thick, coppery scent of blood in the air. At least Zer finally had backup. As she stared at the unfolding picture, Vkhin and Nael joined Zer, fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with him like medieval warriors. The heavy blades flashed in their hands, the muscles bunching in their shoulders as they slowly pushed their way forward. Each brutal blow shivered the air, and there was dark purpose in their eyes. They had their fighting faces on. They were not Goblins but not quite human either.
Dominions
.
The wing beats stopped, so she whipped her head back around, praying the strange window stayed put. She couldn’t bear losing that tenuous connection to Zer. The angel facing her was massively broad-shouldered, a golden-skinned threat whose dark blond hair had been cropped close to the beautiful planes of his skull in a brutal trim. His eyes were a window into hell. Dark. Fiery. Tormented. He looked over her shoulder and into her window on the familiar.
“What do you here, soul mate?”
That voice scared the piss out of her. It sounded like the end of the world. The deep basso was way beyond cold. Emotionless and ancient, that tone warned her that this new companion simply didn’t give a damn about the events unfolding around her.
And she’d thought the Fallen were emotionless. This angel made them look all touchy-feely, filled with the warm fuzzies.
“Believe me,” she said carefully, “I’m none too sure of that myself. One minute, I’m standing there in my office, and the next I’m being skewered like a shish kebab, and there’s a hell of a pop, and here I am.”
The angel seemed to look at her for the first time. His gaze traveled down over her torn blouse and skirt. Paused for a moment to take in the silvery ghost blood painting her chest. “You are a soul mate,” he said again.
“News flash.” She tugged at her blouse. “That doesn’t seem to have mattered.”
“Does your soul mate still live? With whom did you bond?” The angel stepped closer to her. Close enough for her to reach out and touch the blindingly white feathers on the massive pair of wings jutting from his back. The wings stirred, disturbing the air. Maybe, Mr. High-and-Mighty wasn’t as laid-back as he appeared.
He sounded like he wanted the scoop on what was unfolding back down there in her lab.
“My soul mate is the one who ran me through. He killed me.”
The angel jerked backward. “Impossible.”
“Ummm. No.” She indicated the blood-stained front of her blouse. “Does this look like a wound someone could survive? And now, somehow, I’m here.”
“He cannot kill you because you cannot die. Not while you are bonded to him and he lives.” The angel’s wings beat harder.
“And you know this, how?” Because if that was all true, maybe he could send her home.
“Because”—his ancient gaze looked through her—“I am Michael.”
Diplomacy could wait. “This is all your fault.” She took a step forward, anger bubbling up inside her. Zer was down there, fighting for his life. And she was here. She was sick and tired of feeling helpless. “You’re the one who condemned the Fallen three thousand years ago. You kicked them out of the Heavens, ripped off their wings, and exiled them. I don’t give a damn what you thought they’d done—you were wrong. They didn’t deserve the shit storm you handed them.”
She whirled, gesturing toward the otherworldly picture window on her previous life. “Don’t you dare close that. Look at what is happening, and tell me you think this is right.”
Zer was fighting like a berserker now, his eyes cold and gleaming. As he whirled, he brought his blade up, and a thick crimson line blossomed on Cuthah’s chest. Cuthah jerked backward, cursing, and a blade flashed in his own hand. The two edges met, and she fought not to cringe. Not to close her eyes.
The angel moved closer, frowning. “My Dominions are fighting with one of my lieutenants. What is it that you want me to do here?”
“I want you to listen to the truth!” she cried. “Whatever it is you think the Fallen did, they didn’t do it. Zer told me that someone was killing off your females.”
“Brutally.” Michael inclined his head. “Zer is your soul mate?”
She scrubbed at the dark marks encircling her wrists. “Yes. Yes, he is.”
“He was also the leader of the Dominions,” the angel continued implacably. “He was responsible for all of their actions. He led them against me.”
“Because he believed you were a cold-blooded killer!”
The angel shot her a hard look. “But I am. We all are. You know very little of the Dominions, human. We are bred to kill. To defend. We guard the Celestial throne. We vow to do that with our last breath, no matter what it takes.”
“Well, did your no-matter-what-it-takes require innocent females to die? Because that’s what Zer and the Fallen believed. They believed you were responsible for Esrene’s death and the others.”
Michael stared at her expressionlessly. “I did not do that.”
“You said you were a killer.”
He shrugged. “I spoke more generally. I did not kill Esrene or the others, but I ought to have known what was happening.”
“You ought to have known that your lieutenant was a psychotic nut job. How could you let the Dominions Fall without concrete evidence?”
“There was evidence.” She filed this away for future reference.
“Okay. So what about an appeal? Undoing the sentence you passed?”
“Not possible.” He looked over at her. “
You
are the second chance, human. When a Fallen finds his soul mate, he is redeemed.”
“Well, Houston, you have a problem.” She smiled sweetly at the angel. “Because your ‘lieutenant’ is busy hunting down all the soul mates. Oh, and did I mention that he kills them when he finds them? Three thousand years, Michael, and there are only three soul mates found.”
 
In another lifetime, Zer would have challenged Cuthah to a duel. There was a code. This three-on-one was not how the Dominions had lived. This was hunting. His rogue side purred with pleasure at the violence. His world narrowed to the slick slide of the blade, the familiar sensation of muscles warming up as he flowed from one familiar position to the next. He’d been born for this. Bred for this.
He couldn’t look at the body of his soul mate. This was all shades of screwed up. He’d killed her, even though death wouldn’t be permanent, he prayed. The mate in him demanded that he drag her body to safety. She didn’t belong here. She shouldn’t have seen everything he was capable of. The warrior, however, knew he’d made the smart choice, the only choice under the circumstances. She’d bought him time—and cost Cuthah his bargaining chip.
Didn’t mean he had to like the truth, though, so he hit Cuthah hard, driving into the other male with a low, vicious blow. His fist punched into the other’s midsection with satisfying force. Not honorable, but fuck that. He was going to finish this fight now.
Cuthah hit the wall, ribs splitting with an unmistakable crack. Inhaling painfully, he charged to his feet. And back at Zer.
Only way to kill an angel was to take off the head. Zer figured he could use Cuthah as a punching bag all he wanted, but the bastard wouldn’t—couldn’t—die. Stubborn as hell. Anger pounded through him.
“
You
killed Esrene.” The blood running down his own face gave Cuthah’s mocking smile a hellish cast. “Did you know the war her death would cause? Did you even care?
“Oh, I cared.” Cuthah circled, raising his blade. “I cared very much, Zer. Her death was no accident.”
Zer shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. “So, why do it?” He wasn’t going to have another chance. He needed a confession.
“I needed you Dominions discredited.” Cuthah feinted, driving his blade toward Zer’s ribs at the last possible second. “I needed you gone from the Heavens.”
Drawing back, Zer cursed. “Why? Why go to such lengths? Why the elaborate setup?”
Cuthah surged forward. “Because you stood between me and the Celestial throne. I want it all, Zer. Control of the Dominions. Heavenly power. And I can have it. The last obstacle was you Dominions. Once Michael was convinced that you were wanton killers and corrupt”—his blade came down on Zer’s—“then it was simple, Zer. Michael reacted. He exiled the lot of you, and my path was clear. I’ve led the remaining Dominions for the last three thousand years. And Michael feels so guilty, he’s withdrawn from the front lines completely.”
“Why not just kill us outright?”
Cuthah lunged forward, a wolfish smile on his face. “Because this was far more satisfying. “
“News flash.” Zer met Cuthah’s blade with his own. “
This
is far more satisfying.” His blade cut through Cuthah’s throat like the animal he was, sending the other angel’s head flying.
 
“You hear that?” Nessa needed to hear Michael admit the truth. Admit that he’d been wrong.
“I did.”
“You were wrong.” She pressed the point home. “You condemned those guys. You punished them for something they didn’t do. Didn’t dream of doing. That’s your psycho killer there.”

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