by L A Kennedy
“Close your eyes now, Nerissa,” he said. “I’m here. You’re not alone. This is almost over.”
Neri nodded, scalding tears rolled from her eyes, leaving blistered trails on her puffy cheeks. Are my prayers finally being answered? Is this it? The tears rolled faster. She would never finish her life’s work. She would let her people down. She wouldn’t save them. She prayed that her banker’s box, tucked behind boxes in the safe house, would be found. Someone could continue her work. Someone could save them all.
The creak from the door made her stomach pitch and try to jump out of her throat. She would have vomited had there been anything in her stomach. They’d tried to feed her, but she wouldn’t eat. She’d hoped she’d starve to death. At the time, that thought made her grin. All of this work, just for her to starve, and Strain would lose his little lost puppy to kick.
With panic just under her skin, she steeled her emotions. She told herself that Zylan could still be searching for her. She knew he loved her. She knew only death would keep him away from her. She thought of each time he tried to be casual and cross paths with her, how nervous he looked when he’d give her a nod.
She could see him, the memory of him in her mind’s eye, standing six feet tall, buzzed hair, covered in tattoos and piercings. He looked like a bad guy until he spoke. His voice was calmness, safety and with a firm promise of duty. His eyes were hard at first, until he focused on her. Tuning out the world, his eyes bled into something closer to a pool of compassion and trust.
“Neri!” Zylan’s voice echoed through the room, the force sending her into brief panic. Was she imagining this? Had she finally gone completely bonkers? Or was she finally dead, and this was her Elysium?
Neri risked opening her eyes, thinking she was hearing things. Zylan was coming toward her like a freight train. He was covered in blood, his men at his back. Neri broke. Her body vibrating, her cries became louder at the complete relief she felt the moment she saw him.
Zylan cut her down and fell to his knees, pulling the shirt from his back and covering her naked and battered body.
“I knew you’d come,” she whispered, reaching up and touching his check. “I knew it.”
Zylan picked her up then pulled her into his chest, standing with her frail body in his arms. Neri winced in pain, but she clung to him. Stepping out into a hallway, Neri grabbed the door frame.
“There’s another woman. She’s in here. They have another woman,” Neri said, trying to keep him from taking her farther out of this dungeon.
“Riam!” Zylan called out. “She says there’s another woman being held here.”
A man who looked too pretty to be a warrior stepped forward. That wore off the moment you looked into his eyes. Neri tried not to flinch when her eyes met the handsome Slayer, Riam.
“I’ll take another look, but we have to go—now. Backup is coming. We can’t fight them all, Zy,” Riam spoke. Neri and Riam made eye contact again. This time Neri didn’t recoil. He gave her a nod and left their side.
Neri tucked her head into Zylan’s chest as he ran down the hall. She could hear screaming and guns sounding off with the arrival of backup. She prayed they all got out alive. To die now would be too great an insult.
Behind them, she could hear Riam. “I’ll come back for you. I swear. I’ll come back for you.”
“Run!” the woman screamed from the back. “Get her out of here!”
Out of the side door, Neri and Zylan went down in the dirt, bullets flying over their heads.
“Give me a gun!” Neri screamed to Zylan.
“Can you use one?”
“Give me a fucking gun,” she barked. “I was just rescued. I’m not going to fuckin’ die out here now.”
Zylan passed her a nine-millimeter—not her personal choice, but it would do. It was one of Des’ spares, he’d said as he’d passed it to her
“Des is my field partner,” Zylan said. “I always carried a spare for her.”
Pulling the shirt over her body, it falling to her knees, Neri belly-crawled behind a dumpster. Taking a deep breath as her father had taught her, she aimed and eased on the trigger. Her father had taken her to the range every weekend until his death. With every bullet she fired, she thanked her father for teaching her skills she had never thought she’d need.
Three clips later, Zylan and Neri had cleared a path for the other Slayers. As Zylan’s people flooded out of the back door, Neri’s legs wobbled. She’d lost too much blood. She grabbed onto Zylan, the world spun and she was done.
Chapter Eight
“I don’t understand the concept of this game,” Amity said, staring at the pool table. “We hit the hard balls with a stick, sending them into little bags, but why? I do not understand the point. They all go into the little bags then we take them all back out and start over. That’s the very definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results.”
Sid laughed, explaining the game of pool to her again. He’d spent the past week entertaining Amity for Zylan, who was out day and night in search of Neri. Zylan would return only to eat, stock up his gear, doze for an hour or two then head back out. Amity didn’t ask questions about his comings and goings. She stayed behind, as she was directed, and she waited.
“So, we do not expect a different result? Why ever would we continually remove the balls from the bags if that is where they are to be?” she asked, frowning. “I’m still confused about this game.”
“Don’t they have games back where you’re from?” Sid asked her, taking a shot and missing. He was a pool shark, but he was giving her a chance. He liked to draw out the game. He enjoyed spending time with her. Amity wasn’t like the others. She hadn’t grown to hate him or begrudge him for his abilities and lack of reactions. He was Sidriel—nothing more and nothing less. She didn’t question why he wasn’t out there, pointing to Neri’s location. The others had. Riam was the only one’d who kept Zylan from skinning Sid alive.
Amity shrugged. “Games? Of that, I’m sure. Alas, Vestal Virgyns do not engage in such things. We are not permitted to play games. We were not made for that reason. Of course, we would be trained in any sport of our mates, in case they wished to play.”
“You were not made. You were born. You’re not a thing, Amity. You’re a being,” Sid corrected her. He hated that she referred to herself as an object.
Amity blushed, as she usually did when he made her a person and not a thing to be taken out and used, as you would a pencil or a hunting dog. Even then, a hunting dog was respected, treated kindly, and not used like an object. Her pink cheeks made her a little more beautiful to Sid.
Over the days, Sid had finally convinced her to change out of her gauze gowns into leggings and a shirt. Her long white-blonde hair was pulled into a tight braid and exposed her face. When no one was looking, he caught her staring at herself in a mirror, as though she had never seen her reflection before. This world was obviously brand new, and although it had scared the hell out of her, it had also intrigued her. Sid had been with her almost every step of the way. At first he saw it as a hassle. Now he looked forward to it.
Amity tilted her head and frowned, turning her head toward the front room. Sid had felt the same rush of energy coming this way.
“Something is wrong with Zylan,” Amity whispered, rubbing her chest. She placed her hand on the pool table, dropping her cue with a clatter. She tried to take a deep breath and struggled. “Sidriel, something is wrong. Can you feel it?”
Sid moved to her side. “Zylan has found Neri.”
Amity nodded. “Zylan loves her very much, yes?”
Sid nodded. He didn’t want to answer out loud. He felt bad for Amity and didn’t want to tell her that she was not the object of Zy’s affection.
“Do me the honor of truth, Sidriel. He doesn’t want this arrangement with me, does he?”
“No, he doesn’t. But he will honor it. Out of duty and respect for you, he will,” Sid answered, trying not to feel s
orry for her.
“I have been prepared for a marriage that is unwilling. I was taught, but I did not know I would feel this way about it,” Amity whispered, her face falling. She looked disappointed.
“Feel what way?” Sid asked. She schooled her emotions so strongly that Sid had difficulties reading her.
“Badly, as though I am doing something wrong. I was taught about force and acceptance of it onto me, but never onto my mate.”
“Force, either way, is wrong. I don’t care what your books told you.” Sid could feel anger building in his gut. Back-wood hicks, the lot of them. They still believed in marrying into the same family, to keep their bloodlines as pure as possible. Purity didn’t breed strength. It bred an extra arm, eighteen toes and gills.
“I can feel something else,” Amity said, twirling her fingers in the air. “Darkness… I can feel darkness coming.”
Sid let his anger go, opening himself up to what Amity was feeling. “Neri… She is close to death.”
Amity went to lift a gown she wasn’t wearing. Blushing, she stepped forward. “We must go to them at once. Together we can help them.”
Sid stepped back, lifting his hands. “I can’t. I can’t help.”
Amity stopped dead in her tracks and turned. “Sidriel, you and I had an agreement. There would always be truth between us. Do not tell me you cannot stand beside me. Do not tell me you cannot be there for your fellow Slayers. You may not be able to save her, but you can be there for Zylan, as he will not want me to comfort him. You will help, in whatever way you are allowed. Do not be a… How did you say it? Yes, a yellow belly.”
Sid grinned. He’d called her a yellow belly when she’d been too scared to step out of her room in pants. But he had to admit that this time she was right. With a nod, he followed Amity at a dead run into the back infirmary.
The room, set up as a miniature operating room, was filled to the rafters with Slayers. In the middle, Zylan had Neri on the table. Riam and Cael worked to keep her alive.
Zylan turned to the door as Amity and Sid burst in and pushed their way to the middle. He pointed from Sid to Amity, “You, get her out of here. Now.”
Sid touched Amity on the shoulder, trying to stop her from moving forward. “You heard the man.”
Amity pulled her shoulder from him and looked Zylan directly in the eyes. Something she never would have done—or should have done. She was to follow his rule at all times or suffer. Looking as if she’d instantly grown a backbone, she straightened her shoulders and pressed on.
“You may beat me to death later for this. I will bind myself to a bench after oiling a belt, for your arm to swing down upon my nude and waiting body. I will even thank you for each lash and nurse you should you need a rest from splitting my skin wide open to the world, my sire. But in this moment”—Amity moved closer toward Sid—“you need me to save your Fyrvor. Without me, she will die and return as a darkness you will need to destroy. If this is what you truly wish, I will take my leave, but I will not suffer your wrath upon my body later when you must burn her and her darkness.”
Sid was right beside Amity and touched her on the shoulder. “Zylan, she is offering what we cannot do. She is offering what I’m not permitted to do. Give her the chance.”
“We must hurry. Each moment we wait is a moment that brings her closer to darkness,” Amity spoke boldly.
Zylan glared at Amity. “If you hurt her…”
“I know. You will kill me,” Amity finished his sentence and turned her back to him. She moved to the table, looking to Cael. “I have read texts of this darkness. A force called the Order is creating an army of darkness. We have but one chance. Stitch her up. The rest of you come closer. I will need your energy.”
Sid watched everyone carefully for a response, but no one asked questions. Cael kept stitching the wounds on her wrists and backsides of her knees. He stitched quickly, as everyone else moved forward.
Amity didn’t bother looking to Zylan. “Sire, please come touch my shoulder. Everyone must touch. We will use your love for her to bring her back to us.”
Zylan looked like he didn’t want to touch her. Sid could sense his reluctance.
“Touch your Fyrvor. If you cannot bear to touch me, touch her. There can be no ill feelings involved,” she said then looked to Sid. “Catch me when I fall.”
Sid gave her a wink. “Eight ball, corner pocket… You’ve got this one.”
Amity smiled, her eyes glittering with tears. She looked toward Zylan. “I am truly sorry for this, sire. I did not know you already had a love. I’m sorry for coming.”
Sid stepped up behind Amity, touching her hips to steady her. He knew this could kill her. She was willing to die to save the woman her promised mate loved. “If you do not make it, it has been a true honor to have met you, Amity.”
“Wait! What do you mean, if she doesn’t make it?” Zylan spoke, but it was too late.
The room burst with the heat pouring from Amity. Tilting her head to the ceiling, she screamed as the blistering wave left her body and wormed its way into Neri, searching. Watching her with her eyes squeezed shut, Sid could feel her jerking in pain. He knew Amity had sent her mind into Neri to search for the invading darkness. It was something Sid was strictly forbidden to do, for any reason. A path could never be interrupted by a Watchyr. But no one said anything about a Virgyn.
Sid closed his eyes and followed Amity’s soul as it traveled into Neri. At the core of Neri—a place deep inside and safe from the world—her soul was cornered, fighting for life. Amity pushed her heat into the darkness, pulling Zylan’s love with her. The love, in turn, lit the way, forcing the darkness to retreat, forcing it from its painful grab onto Neri’s soul.
Sid continued to watch, enthralled, as with one last push—with everything Amity had—she shoved it all into Neri’s heart. One final push and Neri’s heart fluttered like a caged bird. The deep corner inside Neri lit up like the fourth of July. Amity sliced off a piece of her own soul and gently set it inside Neri, giving her enough to hold on to. With a spark of life, Neri’s soul shoved Amity from deep inside. Sid was tossed out with her. Neri’s soul was now strong enough to fight off invaders.
Sid admired Amity and how she hadn’t paused to think about herself—or that she’d be giving Neri a piece of her own soul. She hadn’t stopped to think about her death or that she was saving the one person who stood between her and Zylan.
Once Neri’s soul had felt Amity’s invasion and they’d both been ejected from within her, the force threw Amity back from the table. She lifted off the ground with Sid holding on behind her. Zylan came running as she landed on top of Sid, reaching out to her.
“You did good,” Sid whispered, holding onto her.
Amity smiled and turned her face to Zylan. “I did what a Vestal Virgyn could only hope and pray for. I’ve pleased my sire. It is a good first death, my sire.”
Sid pushed Zylan’s hands away from Amity. “You don’t deserve to hold her in her last moments.”
Sid felt the weight of Amity’s decisions pushing down on her failing heart. She did as any Vestal Virgyn had dreamed about. It was the highest honor she could ever have. She had done an unasked task that had given her sire honest happiness. At least this knowledge would make her walk into her next life. A journey free of burden and curse. Sid knew Amity would die her first death willingly, knowing her sire would be happy. It was the Vestal Virgyn way, always on the edge of the blade, ready to plunge it into their hearts if it made their mates happy.
Sid moved into her vision. “Corner pocket… You got it.”
A small laugh escaped her lips. “In your face, yellow belly. Game over.”
Sid placed a small kiss on her forehead, a lump forming in the back of his throat. “No cheating. Game isn’t over until the fat lady sings—two lives, no cheating.”
Amity nodded. Sid watched as her first death crawled into her body to take up residence. There would be no pain, even though many thought there was.
This being a death she’d chosen, it would give her the peace she needed not to fight it and just let go. If she hadn’t damaged her heart beyond repair, she’d return as full Vampyre. If she’d given too much, there would be no return for her. In a way, Sid selfishly hoped there would be no return for her. He didn’t want Zylan forced into a partnership with her. He wanted more for her. A forced marriage would be hell. She was a being, not an object. Beings had choice.
Chapter Nine
Zylan paced back and forth, his back to the bed that held Neri, who thankfully was out cold. She’d woken once and had had a complete meltdown. Her brain clearly still hadn’t processed the rescue. In her mind, she seemed to be still locked in the black room, hanging from the wall, being tortured. It had taken three Slayers to hold her down until the resident doc had pumped her full of enough tranquilizers to take down an elephant.
It killed something inside Zylan, having her scream at his touch, cringing in fear and shielding her face. He wanted to break his fellow Slayer’s arms for causing her to scream out in pain. He was willing to kill his friends for doing what they were told, for doing what was needed in order to jab a sleepy-time needle into her arm. He wanted to chase them all away and plant himself in front of her bed with a knife and a gun. He was willing to pump a few rounds into anyone who risked coming back in for her. Love was illogical and unforgiving. He couldn’t think straight.
Neri was being assessed by Ester, once a physician. She was an irregular who’d joined the fight when her practice was blown to bits by the Order. She’d been with the Netherworld Agency as a field medic, stitching them up and keeping them alive, for almost as long as Zylan had known Cael. She was their resident doc, and she was damn good at what she did. Sure, she had the bedside manner of a flesh-eating monster, but she cut to the chase and didn’t believe in bullshitting anyone.