Awake in Shadows

by Eve Langlais

  Escape. She had to escape. Only, where could she go? On the thirteenth floor of a hotel, her options were rather limited.

  She made it to the bedroom and went to slam the door shut, only like many a suspense movie, his hand wedged in the crack, preventing it from latching.

  Still, she shoved and pushed. Sobbed and breathed in high-pitched wheezes.

  How could this be happening? This was a safe place. Titus had said so. Where was the dragon to eat this bastard?

  On that note, where were Titus and Logan?

  Help me. She projected the thought, hoping to reach either of them, but she’d cut that string. There was no reply.

  The door shoved open, flinging her back. She reeled before catching her balance, her fingers grasping the edge of a nightstand. She reached for something, anything, and her hand curled around the stem of a lamp. She brandished it as he stalked in, smoke curling from a nostril.

  “Leave me alone!” Terror made the demand quaver.

  “You ran away. And before we were done. How naughty of you.” He smiled, with all the cruelty he could manage.

  “You can’t hurt me. This is a safe place.”

  “Ah, yes, the dragon.” He paused in his pursuit and waved a hand. “A little occupied given someone just robbed his bank and jewelry store at the same time.”

  “You won’t get away with this.”

  “I will. Just like I did before.”

  “I won’t go with you.” She angled her chin.

  “You will. And you’ll also tell me who helped you escape.”

  “I’ll die first.”

  “No, you won’t. But you’ll want to. I’ve missed your screams. The begging.” He grinned, and there were more teeth than normal in there. “Your chains are waiting for you.”

  The clang of the metal links filled her mind. Terror took over, thick and cloying. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

  She flung the lamp at him, and it only bounced off. When he reached for her, she flailed like a frightened animal because, in that moment, she was no better than a dumb beast.

  No finesse. No skill. No power to fight him.

  His cruel laughter only made it worse. “You aren’t even trying, are you? I knew you missed it.” The smug boast brought a scream, one borne of frustration.

  The shrill cry spilled from her lips and grew, loud enough to shatter lightbulbs.

  It did nothing to ease the strength of his grip as he latched on to her arm. She tugged, a futile gesture.

  I can’t escape.

  Just like those weeks, months, forever and an eternity of torture, he controlled her. He dragged her from the room into the darkened hall, eschewing the elevators to head for the stairs, the garish red sign a beacon in the dark.

  She dug in her heels, but he yanked harder, almost dislocating her arm, and she had no choice but to haltingly stumble in his wake.

  The stairs, comprised of hard concrete, provided a hard landing for her knees when she wasn’t quick enough to follow.

  She huffed and panted as he forced her in the direction of the roof. For what? Not to kill her. He seemed keener on resuming the torture.

  I can’t let him. She had to find a way to escape. She glanced upward and wondered if she’d get a chance to jump off the edge of the roof and end things once and for all.

  Suicide? Not her first choice. Yet, she couldn’t go back.

  As he pushed open the door framing the top of the stairs, he shoved her, and she stumbled out, catching herself before she fell face-first on the asphalt surface.

  Before he could grab her again, she sprinted. Running for the lip of the rooftop. Not stopping to think.

  A fist of nothing gripped her. Her body lifted, leaving her feet moving uselessly.

  Hovering, the enemy spun her to face him. A monster with a handsome face. The one commanding the demons, who’d attacked her in the forest. The reason she didn’t meet her true love that day.

  A lover who had never come to find her.

  Perhaps not so in love at all.

  She struggled as the weight of her memories crushed. The despair. The pain. The betrayal. More pain.

  The most horrifying thing about seeing him was that she still didn’t know his name. He’d never told her.

  Never gave her a reason for his actions.

  Yet, for some reason, his hatred for her overflowed.

  Held suspended, she couldn’t help but cry, “Why? Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?”

  “You think this is about you?” He laughed as he angled his hand and the squeezing grip evaporated, dumping her onto the tarry surface. “This was never about you. I could have just as easily killed you, but that wouldn’t have provided any entertainment.”

  “Torturing me is a game for you?”

  “Fun, isn’t it?” he mocked. “For some of us, at least. And about to get even more entertaining. Because I’m finally about to tell him what I did.”

  “Who?”

  “As if you don’t remember.”

  “I have amnesia.” The spell kind that even now jabbed her with needles as memories struggled to break free. “I don’t remember my life from before.”

  “How far the mighty have fallen.” Spoken with a sneer.

  It sparked a spurt of anger. “I was forsaken because of you.”

  “You were forsaken the moment you laid with him.”

  “Laid with who?” She blinked, and—in that moment—she saw another face. Not the leering, evil one of the monster before her, but a handsome one, soft when he smiled at her. The face of her one true love.

  The man she’d been on her way to meet that day…

  A man who’d never rescued her.

  “How utterly delicious. You forgot him. Oh, how that will burn that he wasn’t important enough to remember.”

  “I wouldn’t laugh so hard. I don’t know who you are either.”

  The tart remark resulted in an air slap hard enough to jerk her head to the side, splitting her lip. The coppery taste of her blood filled her mouth.

  She licked at it before facing him again. “I see that’s a sore spot.” For some reason, his abuse quelled the terror, allowing a fragile bravado to rise. She had nothing to lose.

  “Bow to me, whore, for I am Mammon. Greatest of the Ha’el lords. Soon to be heir to the Shadowlands.”

  “Only the pure can rule.” She couldn’t have said where that comment came from, but as it slipped past her lips, his eyes took on a reddish glow.

  “That rule was to prevent the weak from inheriting. I am not weak!” he shouted.

  “No, you are worse than that,” said a cold voice that brought a tremor to her limbs. “You are a coward.”

  “At last, he arrives,” Mammon exclaimed, his face alight with a cruel joy. He turned, blocking her view. “Brother. How delightful you’ve joined us.”

  “What have you done?” The low, growled query rang with rage.

  “Only stolen the thing most precious to you.” Mammon laughed. “And you never even knew. But I’m being rude. I know there’s someone here dying to see you.” He turned a sly gaze towards Adara. “Look who’s finally come. Do you know who this is?”

  She looked upon the man Mammon called brother, his square-cut face framed by wavy, dark hair hinting of red. The slash of his lips, grimly pressed right now, but she remembered their softness. The promises those lips made.

  Promises broken.

  He stared in shock at her. “It can’t be…”

  “Desmond.” His name whispered from her lips, even as the truth almost crushed her. For here, at last, was her forbidden lover. Her secret fiancé. The reason she was forsaken. Because she’d dared to fall in love with an Ifrit.

  The enemy.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Emerging on the rooftop, Titus realized he’d failed Adara.

  Again.

  There she was, in the clutches of a true monster. But at least there was still a chance.

  We a
re three against the one. Four, if Adara weren’t gravely injured.

  They fanned out. Titus to the left. Logan, keeping his wolf shape, to the right.

  The male from her past, drew Mammon’s attention along with Adara’s.

  No mistaking the shock in her eyes, the movement of her lips as she mouthed his name.

  She remembers him. But Titus didn’t feel jealousy at the man she’d once called fiancé. How could he with the pain and betrayal on her face?

  “What have you done, Mammon?” growled Desmond.

  “More like what haven’t I done, brother.” The other man, who looked less human by the minute, grinned while smoke curled from his nose.

  “You are no kin of mine.”

  “Deny it all you want, but we share a father.”

  “Not for long. I will kill you.” Desmond flexed his hands, and a warm breeze erupted out of nowhere, rustling hair and bringing a hint of brimstone.

  “Killing me won’t erase the fact that I sullied your precious female. I’m the reason you thought Erela died.” Mammon pounded his chest. “But she wasn’t actually dead. Tell him, Erela. Tell your precious fiancé about the raping and beatings and the screaming while he pouted in his throne room, thinking you’d jilted him.”

  “I didn’t know,” Desmond whispered, his anguished words probably not meant to be heard by anyone but Adara. Titus refused to feel sorry for him.

  Adara’s eyes blazed as she pushed up from her knees. “I called for you. You didn’t come.”

  “I’m here now.”

  A harsh laugh erupted from her. “Now is too late. You don’t know what he’s done. I am broken. Ruined. Forsaken…” Her head bowed, and Titus almost felt bad for the guy.

  Almost.

  But he was a rival and the reason for Adara’s torture. Titus eased closer, only to find himself frozen in place.

  Mammon glanced at him, vaguely curious. “You’re a hard vampire to track. Unlike the wolf, whose home is practically a public gathering spot.”

  “I like my privacy,” Titus replied.

  “A sanctuary I burned down,” Mammon boasted. “Now where will you hide when daylight strikes?”

  “Under your dead body will suit me just fine.”

  “Such impertinence from a bottom feeder.”

  “Why not come here and fight me one-on-one and we’ll see who’s on the bottom,” Titus taunted.

  “How do you engender such loyalty?” Mammon asked Adara. “Do you spread your legs willingly to anyone with a dick?”

  “Monster!” She lunged at him.

  She didn’t get far. Mammon waved a hand in her direction, and she fell to her knees as if struck. Her arms were suddenly wrenched behind her back, and she cried out.

  Titus wasn’t the only one to bullet forward and be stopped. A wall of force stood in his way.

  Magic. And he had no way to fight it.

  But Desmond did. Desmond finally reacted, slashing his hand through the air.

  “Enough of the games, Mammon. You’re outnumbered,” Desmond pointed out. “Release Erela, and I will give you a clean death.”

  “Do you still really want the whore? I will admit, she has the best screams. And when she pleads for mercy…” Mammon kissed his fingers.

  Desmond growled, and his fists clenched, but he didn’t move, probably because Mammon still held Adara in a ghostly grip. Tears ran down her cheeks.

  “Your fight is with me, not her,” growled Desmond. “Let us end this once and for all. You and me. I’ll make it quick.”

  “Do you really think I am going to offer to die?”

  Titus was the one to point out, “You’re outnumbered.” A claim punctuated by a rumbling snarl from Logan.

  “Am I outnumbered?” Mammon grinned. “Good thing I didn’t come alone.”

  Gnarly heads suddenly popped over the edge of the roof, eyes gleaming and teeth bared. Dozens of bodies filled the space, and an already cold-blooded Titus felt his veins freeze.

  This didn’t bode well.

  “I don’t suppose you brought your own legion to help,” he asked in an aside to Desmond.

  “It is forbidden to bring lower-caste minions to this side. Which my brother well knows.”

  “Obeying rules won’t get me what I want.”

  “What do you want?” Desmond asked.

  “For starters, I want to bask in your suffering.” With a flick of his hand, Adara jerked into the air, and her arms were stretched enough that she cried out.

  Before Desmond could cast his own magic and retaliate, she was dropped amidst the squirming bodies of demons.

  Right into her worst nightmare.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  When she hit the writhing demon bodies, Adara withdrew into herself. She knew what would happen next. Remembered all too well how the slice of a claw through skin and muscle felt. The pinprick agony of teeth sinking into her flesh.

  She checked out of her body rather than experience it again. She floated above, a ghostly spectator that might never return to its fleshy cage.

  Away from it all, she watched Desmond engaging Mammon in a fight. The magic flinging fast and furious between them. Desmond hampered by the Earth’s lack of magic. Mammon made stronger because of the evil he’d welcomed into his body. Enhancements he’d bought despite the cost.

  She really didn’t care who won that battle, though. She refused to let Mammon hurt her again. And she refused to believe Desmond when he said he didn’t know.

  He’d never even looked.

  All that time, she’d prayed he would come to her rescue, it turned out Mammon’s taunting was true. Desmond didn’t care.

  But she did have two men who did. Titus did his best to come to her aid. Wading through the demon bodies. Flinging them to the side. Tearing into them with teeth and nails.

  He tried to reach her buried body. He wouldn’t make it. Already, he bled from too many gashes. His movements slowed.

  Then there was Logan, her furry knight. She could see flashes of his dark fur as he weaved through the bodies, snarling and snapping. Laying waste to the demons, but also being overwhelmed.

  They were ready to give their lives to save her.

  Could she do the same?

  I don’t want to go back. I’m tired of hurting.

  She sighed, a ghostly exhalation that sent a breeze across the rooftop.

  Despite having no body or shape, Desmond’s gaze found her hovering overhead. He stared at her, his eyes a dark pit with a rim of fire. He didn’t mouth any platitudes. He didn’t apologize. He snarled.

  “Don’t just float there, Erela. Do something.”

  Do what? Her body was overrun but still alive, she could feel it. Did he not understand? She wasn’t the warrior of before. The woman known as Erela was gone. Even with memories, she could never come back.

  Adara was a weak and sniveling coward.

  Who am I, then?

  A survivor. A woman who meant enough for two men to give their lives. A female who was a fighter. Giving up should never be an option.

  But how could she fight? She had no weapon. No magic.

  Mammon took everything from her.

  Then it’s time I take it back.

  Resolve hardened her spirit, and she dove back into her body, only to gasp. The aches and pains of the attack hit her all at once and drew a primal scream.

  Not again.

  She shoved at the bodies crowding her, arms flailing, lacking finesse. She managed to free herself and sprang to her feet, still screaming.

  And this time, he heard her cry.

  I’m here, beloved. Through their link, he sent her magic, a burning wave of it. Like a parched desert, she sucked it in. Took it, filled herself to the brim until she almost burst from the heat.

  Opening her eyes, she saw Desmond ignoring his battle with Mammon that he might pour even more magic into her. Magic that healed. Magic that gave her strength.

  Desmond gave her everything he had, which meant when M
ammon felled him from behind, thrusting his sword of dark flame through his chest, it was his turn to fall.

  “No.” The word slipped from her lips. It didn’t stop Desmond from slumping to the ground. She reached for him, the ache in her chest fierce. How could she still care?

  She glanced away, wanting to close her heart, only to see Logan being overrun. A shake of her head to her right and she saw Titus fighting from his knees before he was tugged under.

  “No.” Softer still. A word rife with despair.

  All those who came to her rescue fell.

  She truly was forsaken. Cursed to be alone.

  Always hurting.

  And she’d had enough.

  It was time she took back control of her life. Starting with the one who ruined it.

  “You,” she spat with venom. “I’ve had it with you.”

  Mammon laughed, a nasty chuckle that was picked up and echoed by his minions. “What will you do about it, Forsaken One? We both know you have no power anymore. No magic. The tribunal made sure of that.”

  She blinked at his words, more memories flooding. The dark room. The questions by those without bodies. The burning of her mind as they stole the answers. Stole her power. Then dumped her like garbage into the human world.

  But had they stolen everything? Or had she just forgotten how?

  She flexed her fingers, feeling the strength Desmond had given her. Fading already as her body healed.

  “Did the tribunal help you escape? Ironic if they did, considering they then banished you,” Mammon continued to taunt.

  “I had no help escaping.” She didn’t clearly remember yet how it had happened, but she knew she’d done it alone.

  Always alone.

  Seeking help, only to be betrayed again.

  And for the crime of falling in love.

  Mammon stepped over his brother’s body and strode towards her, just as fearsome as she recalled. Only this time, she wasn’t tied down.

  She held her chin high. “I will kill you.”

  “How?” he mocked. “With your bare hands?”

  She held out her left palm and stared at it. “Diimon Makir, I summon thee.”

  For a moment, she thought it wouldn’t work. The sword belonged to the old Erela. The tribunal had made it clear when they sentenced her that she could keep nothing of her old life.