Retribution (Redemption Series) (5 page)

There was abrupt pain along my shoulder
blades, my left leg, and my right arm. It was intense, searing, and sudden, and
I faltered, my body sagging in the air.

"Get
to the ground,"
Marcas
ordered in my head, and I shook myself.

I didn't want to leave him, but I was
new to flying and every time Damon attacked
Marcas
,
the pain crippled me. It was getting hard to stay in the air.

"
The ground, Dayton."

This time, I didn't fight his command. I
flew downward swiftly, an unexpected scorching pain in my gut causing me to
fall the last few feet, and I slammed against the earth, my back bearing the
brunt of the landing. I felt the air rush out of my lungs, and I prayed my
descent didn't weaken
Marcas
.

"Dayton!" I heard someone
whisper urgently, and I felt cool hands on my cheeks.

"You shouldn't be here," I
groaned, my fist clenched against my stomach. The pain . . .

"
Shhhhh
.
. ." my sister soothed.

I could feel her lifting my head into
her lap. I didn't push her away, but I also didn't beg her to stay. There was
no strength left in me, my body wracked with spasms. I didn't even have the
strength to cry.

Amber attempted to lift me, and I knew
she was trying to move me. I managed to struggle.

"I won't leave him," I said
hoarsely, my voice cracked and strained. Amber tugged on me.

"You'll be killed," she
pleaded.

I looked up into my sister's face. It
was fairly dark now, but there were lampposts on the Abbey's grounds that came
on at night, and the dull yellow glow blanketed the area. It made Amber's face
look sickly, casting shadows under her eyes and creating hollows under her
cheeks.

"I won't leave him," I
repeated firmly. "I won't."

"Oh, Day . . ." Amber began, but
she was cut off by my screams as I clawed at my throat, my body suddenly
sliding backward along the ground.

Amber scrambled after me, running her
hands over me frantically as I choked.

"Dang it,
Day!
What's happening to you?" Amber yelled as the pressure on my esophagus
tightened and then eased, and I wheezed, my nails digging into the soil beneath
me.

"The bond," I gasped.

The words came out garbled, my throat
raw. Damon wouldn't kill
Marcas
. He needed me, but he
would do his best to make
Marcas
and I wish we were
dead. I pushed at the ground, my eyes on the sky. The pain that came next was
expected, and I dug my heels into the ground, my teeth clenched so tightly I
was surprised they didn't crumble.

"Dayton . . ." Amber began,
one of her hands touching me tentatively. I felt pressure against my shoulder,
but there was no pain.
Only numbness.
"You're
bleeding," she whispered.

I just nodded absently, my own hand
coming up to cradle the wound as I pushed myself upward. Amber scrambled to
help me, and I used her for support. I knew she wanted an explanation, anything
to explain why killing
Marcas
meant killing me.

"The ritual the sect performed
bound
Marcas
to me as physically as it did
metaphysically. He dies, I die."

The answer was short, abrupt, but it was
all we had time for. A jarring pain shot through my jaw, and I grasped my face.

"Shit!" I cursed.

Amber didn't reprimand me for the
language. Her attention was diverted, her eyes searching the sky.
 

"Dayton," she said fearfully,
and my gaze followed hers.

I glimpsed a colorful ball of red and
black tumbling together, the mass growing as it descended. I had just enough
time to shove Amber as far away as I could before both
Marcas
and Damon slammed against the ground,
Marcas
' hand
wrapped around Damon's throat as Damon's back met with the soil not far from my
feet.

"The Seal, Brother,"
Marcas
hissed, his breath and words ragged. Even in the dim
light, his injuries were apparent, his shirt ripped, his face swelling, his
shoulder bleeding.

Damon spat, blood trickling from the
corner of his mouth as he flashed pointed teeth at
Marcas
.

"And here I thought the girl meant
more," Damon said, his eyes on me over
Marcas
'
shoulder. He grinned.

His actions, his smile, should have been
warning enough, but it wasn't until I heard Amber's scream that I realized
Damon had played us. I twisted, my heart sinking into my toes when my gaze met
the wide, cunning eyes of Ian James, my former philosophy teacher and a member
of my aunt's sect. He had an arm wrapped around Amber's neck, his free arm held
out. Gripped tightly in his hand, his knuckles white with the strain, was a
wicked looking dagger.
 
His eyes were
white and glassy.

"Mr. James . . ." I whispered,
taking a cautious step forward.

Ian jumped, the dagger moving toward
Amber's side. I whimpered, freezing instantly.

"Please," I begged him,
although I knew it was pointless.

It was obvious Damon had Ian possessed.
Ian had been with my aunt, the Sisters, and a long line of
Sethian
descendants when they had performed the ritual that had tied me to
Marcas
. He also had some kind of arrangement with my
sister. The last time I saw Amber and Ian together, I was fairly sure they were
a couple.

Amber's eyes were wide, and she stood
frozen, her gaze locked on the blade at her side. I didn't make any more sudden
moves.

"It appears we have a slight
predicament," Damon said, his eyes darkening. "Who do you love more,
Dayton?
Your sister or my brother?"

 
I
knew even before
Marcas
backed away from Damon that
the question hadn't been meant for me. Damon knew his twin well.
Marcas
wouldn't let his brother murder my sister. I wasn't
sure whether to laugh or cry. In my heart I knew
Marcas
released his brother because he thought if Damon killed Amber, I'd always think
of my sister when I was with him. He was wrong.

"Release her," I demanded, my
voice low, my eyes hard.

The command was for Damon, but my gaze
was locked on Ian's.

"You make demands without
payment," Damon said.

It was the laughter in his voice that
caused the sudden anger that flooded me. I was so sick and tired of everyone
assuming they knew who I was, what I was capable of. They were all wrong. I
wouldn't think of Amber every time I was with
Marcas
if she died. I loved
Marcas
too much for that, knew
what kind of person he was underneath all of the Demon hype.
Bad
boy, maybe.
But a bad boy who knew how to love.

"Release her," I repeated, my
eyes moving briefly to
Marcas
'.

I'm not sure what
Marcas
saw in my gaze, but he nodded and backed away. This was
my
fight. It was
my
life
that was being manipulated. No matter how wonderful it is to be rescued by a
sexy, larger than life hero, it's even more fulfilling facing some things
alone. And if Amber died, her blood would be on my hands because I didn't
intend to let Damon win this fight no matter the consequences.

"Cockiness is not attractive,"
Damon growled as Amber screamed.

The point of Ian's dagger was pressed
now against Amber's skin. It was enough to bring blood, but it wasn't enough to
cause serious damage. I felt my jaw tighten. Amber's screams made my heart
bleed,
and I hardened myself against the emotions that
suddenly bombarded me.

"Neither is arrogance, but you
certainly don't lack in that attribute," I breathed as I turned to face
him, my back now to Amber. "What do you want?"

Damon's eyes
narrowed,
his gaze sharp as he moved toward me. I could see
Marcas
stiffen, but I shook my head. Damon was mine.

"Wear the Seal, Dayton. Feel the
power. Purge yourself of
Marcas
' blood and take
mine."

Damon was whispering now, his eyes black
as they stared into mine. I could feel his presence, blurry and mad, at the
edge of my mind, and I knew he was attempting possession. My bond with
Marcas
prevented it. I leaned forward and stood on the tips
of my toes. I was still too short to look Damon in the eyes, but it didn't stop
me from trying.

"You can go to hell."

Amber screamed again behind me, and I
swallowed hard. Damon grinned.

"Being a smartass is easy, Dayton.
Watching someone die . . .
 
not so much."

He was right, but I could feel
Marcas's
energy moving through me and it kept me strong. It
kept me strong because Damon couldn't hear
Marcas
'
voice in my head. He couldn't hear the whispered, urgent plans that were being
written behind my eyes. I was blocking like hell.

"Do you think you can break
me?" I asked.

Damon's face hardened, and his hand was
suddenly wrapped around my wrist. His grip was crushing, and I whimpered
without meaning to. It just made him squeeze harder, and although the pain was
distracting, I knew it had given
Marcas
the time he
needed.

There was a scream behind me, but it
wasn't Amber's. I didn't have to see Ian James go down to know
Marcas
had killed him. I felt a brief moment of guilt.
Marcas
had killed a man possessed by a Demon, a man who
hadn't been in his right mind. It was, morally, murder. But my sister lived.

Damon swore, his hand lifting, and it
was my screams that filled the air as he grasped my other wrist, forcing me to
the ground as he sent a shock of power through me so strong, I was positive I
was dying.
Marcas
yelled, but I knew as soon as Damon
released my left wrist, his power keeping me immobilized as the Seal began to
slide magically from a finger on his right hand what he intended.

"No," I whispered, my teeth
gritted.

I could see
Marcas
now from the corner of my eye. He was down on one knee with one fist on the
ground and the other against his stomach. It wasn't Damon's power controlling
the two of us. It was the Seal. I felt the ring rub my hand, and I tried to
pull away.

"Remember,
we are a link between three worlds. The Seal links only two.
"

I wasn't strong enough to block my
thoughts, and I knew by the way Damon looked over at his brother that he had
heard
Marcas
' words.
Marcas
'
head lifted, his eyes meeting Damon's.

"You think that matters,
Brother?" Damon asked.

Damon threw back his head and laughed as
I let
Marcas
' words echo through my mind.

"Blood bonds only go so far,"
Marcas
said,
his voice low and
strained.

Damon grew still, the ring frozen now at
the tip of my left ring finger.

"There is nothing stronger than
blood."
 

Marcas
didn't have to
reply to Damon's statement. I could feel the building power in my gut even as
the ring moved further down my finger, and I grabbed at it. I was infused with
anger, with vengeance. It wasn't an appropriate emotion for an Angel, but Damon
had killed my mother and was determined to take everything that meant anything
to me away. Appropriate or not, I wouldn't let it happen.

"Blood is only as strong as the
heart that pumps it," I heard
Marcas
say as I
threw everything I had into Damon, the power erupting with enough force, it
entered him violently. The ring was no longer there to buffer it, and Damon's
eyes widened as he hit the ground.

I stared down at him, the ring dangling
from my finger as I used my power to call on the dagger still near Ian's
lifeless body. I could hear Amber crying quietly, but I didn't look for her. I
was too angry, too full of hate.

The dagger was suddenly in my right
hand, and I knelt over Damon.

"Love is stronger than blood,"
I whispered. "There is so much more to me than meets the eye."

Damon
blinked,
his eyes on the dagger.

"And yet you still fear one
thing," he mocked.

I didn't give him time to say anything more.
I plunged the dagger downward, but only made it halfway to Damon's heart before
the dagger was no longer in my fist. The knife entered Damon's chest violently,
but it wasn't my hand that finally shoved it home, it was
Marcas
'.

"You will not be damned,"
Marcas
said,
his voice full of
pain.