Shattered Dawn (Fallen Guardians Book 5)

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  All she knew was she didn’t want him to stop kissing her, touching her. For the first time in her horrible life, she wanted something for herself. No matter how fleeting.

  So she ignored his crude words. “It’s not forever,” she said huskily. “No need to worry that I’ll want more.”

  The flames of passion in his light eyes faded. He let her go and stepped back. “Race is waiting for me.” He took the narrow, winding steps up.

  “Dammit, Nik—” She slapped a hand on the wall. “What did I do now?”

  He glanced back. “You? Nothing. I guess I’m a masochist. See, here’s the thing, Starshine. While you contemplate short-term, I don’t. Think about that.” With a grim smile, he shimmered and vanished from her sight.

  Her mouth snapped shut. Inhaling harshly, her legs too shaky to hold her, Shadow collapsed on the coarsely hewed granite step.

  He wanted her long-term. Forever?

  Oh, god. She gripped her hair, his words ricocheting inside her skull.

  When she’d first met him five months ago at the castle, he’d been daunting. Heck, he’d scared her a little if she were honest. But as she got to know him now—yes, he could be a bit terrifying, and he frustrated her at times with his inflexible ways—but she saw the other side of him under the brusque exterior. His caring, softer side.

  A moan escaping her, she dropped her head to her knees. Christ, what did she say to him? No matter how she felt, she couldn’t stay with him. Not forever.

  After several long agonizing minutes, she rose from the cold step and made her way back to the kitchen and to the inner door leading to the living room. She pushed it open and stumbled to a halt. Her jaw dropped.

  Shadow gaped at the floating, holographic 3-D images Lore had conjured of the living room with modern furnishings. With a wave of his finger, he transformed the worn, brown leather armchairs and couches to white. White walls, white table, white everything!

  Dear Lord. “Please, don’t change anything.” Who liked white furniture, besides, apparently, this angel?

  “Have to, been asked to do so very nicely if you recall.”

  Ugh. She didn’t want to argue with a heavenly being. She wheeled back into the kitchen, the door shutting behind her, and rubbed her injured nodes.

  A click alerted her to the door reopening. Shadow hastily dropped her hand as Lore strolled inside, wings tucked close to his back, his whole body gleaming like a flame beneath the kitchen lights. Contemplative, metallic-green eyes swept over her.

  She frowned. “What?”

  “You are different from the others, the females back at the castle.”

  Could he sense her nodes? Oh, God. Please…

  “Humans aren’t all the same,” she muttered. Picking up Nik’s black coffee, she skirted past the angel and exited the kitchen. She sipped some—

  Good god! She choked and coughed at the bitterness exploding in her mouth. How did Nik drink this awful stuff? But when one lived the way she did, food was food. Prepared for the bitterness, she sipped a little more, glancing down at her faded pink top, now sporting brown stains. Man. Before it set, she hurried upstairs.

  In Nik’s room, she left the coffee on the nightstand, pulled off her top, and made for the bathroom. Then she stood there, her fingers crushing her stained t-shirt while she stared at the dressing hiding her injured nodes. And her chest compressed at her reality, and why she could never contemplate a relationship with anyone.

  How did she tell Nik she couldn’t stay long-term? Hell, she couldn’t even stay for a week.

  I’m not normal.

  Because the powers that be had chosen a different path for her when she lay dying in the alley five years ago. Tears burned her eyes at the unfairness of it all. How could Fate show her an inkling of happiness, one that would always be out of her reach?

  Her life wasn’t her own. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

  Not when she would always need demons to survive.

  Chapter 14

  Hell, he should never have told Shadow about wanting a forever relationship. The idea had disaster written all over it judging from her stricken expression. But he had, and he didn’t care if he was on a fast-track to disaster, pursuing this with her—

  The rattling chain in the dense silence on the plateau hauled Nik back to his precarious position. The spiked iron ball came at him like a missile locked on target. He ducked, avoiding the trajectory.

  Race leaped into the air, his macabre weapon of torture lashing out.

  Nik gritted his teeth and swung his club, the chain tangling around the metal baton, but the spiked ball still caught him in the chest. Pain zinged, and skin tore off as the barbs yanked free. He barely felt it or the blood seeping down his abs. Adrenaline charging through him, they fought hard and fast.

  Slay him, slay him, the oily voices crooned, sickly sweet. She wants the dragon.

  Fuck off. His mind close to shattering, Nik let his innate icy nature, where no emotions ruled, slip through him, and the voices receded. He slammed his baton into the dragon’s torso, the hooks tearing through flesh. Grunting, Race leaped back, chest dripping red. He flashed out a hand, sending Nik flying backward with a psychic shove.

  “Enough,” Race growled. “We’ve been at this for four hours straight, man. It’s time.”

  “Not yet.”

  Race swiped his sweat drenched face with his hand and glanced up at the night sky. “Never fear, old friend, I have your back,” he drawled. “If you get dragged to Tartarus since the witching hour is almost upon you—with you hanging around in the open instead of in confinement—I’ll be happy to take care of your woman. I know she’s here. I can smell her…”

  Nik smashed his fist into the warrior’s face, sending him back a step. “Stay away from her or I will kill you.”

  Race laughed, swiping his bloody mouth. “You’re one fucking insane bastard.”

  “Good, you know that.” Nik flexed his bruised fingers and stilled. Despite his iced-over emotions, the malignance entrenched deep within him battered at his perilously thinning psychic shield with a strength that twisted his gut. The moon above shed a cold, silvery light, but with his ties to Tartarus, he saw more—saw the bloodstains slowly creeping in at the edges.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fighting didn’t delay the inevitable.

  Jaw clamped tight, Nik flashed from the mountain, heading deep below the monastery’s living quarters to the cells there. He stumbled, but hands steadied him. Race stood at his side.

  Both he and Dagan knew some of his shit. Hard to hide his kind of curse.

  There was no pity in the warrior’s eyes. No trite words of appeasement. Nik preferred it this way. Nothing in their life would ever be right after Tartarus.

  Nik shoved open the heavy iron door he’d installed and stepped into the musty cell. The monks of old had used it for self-isolation, and he sequestrated himself in it every four months or so. It was the only place that would keep him trapped and prevent him from hauling ass back to Tartarus and to his sadistic, amorphous jailors.

  Race leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. “I’ll hang around.”

  “No.” Nik scrubbed his face, pacing the five steps to the other side and back again, too jittery to remain still. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  With a terse nod, Race shut the door behind him, sealing Nik inside.

  Nik continued his relentless traipsing of the small cell, his heart beating too fast. The souls inside him, sensing freedom, assaulted at him like a barrage of swords, eager to be free. But there would be no true escape for him or those damned souls in this warded cell. Once the blood moon’s energy waned in three days, they would ram straight back into him because the damn curse from his incarceration still hung over him.

  Memories jerked free, dropping him back to their trial in front of the tribunal at the Gates of the Gods—the political powerhouse of all deities—after Inara, the Goddess of Life’s abduction and the massacre of her handmaidens and soldiers… />
  “For the innocent blood shed of those under your protection by the worst of the odious evil out there, Tartarus will be your beginning and end…”

  A rush of power hauled him out of the chamber and through a portal, hurtling him into darkness. He slammed onto a hard, jagged surface. His bones rattled. Pain gushed, spreading through him where he lay, surrounded by darkness and churning mists.

  Tartarus.

  He was alone. None of the other protectors were with him, but the agony continued. And the truth struck Nik like a sword in the belly. He no longer possessed quick healing. All his powers were gone, along with his protective, serpent-like fog.

  An insidious screech coasted over the lands. Invisible hands dragged him to his feet. Eerie red eyes appeared in foggy, skeletal forms.

  “You belong to ussss.” A ghostly shriek splintered around him. “Bring back the sssouls we desire.”

  How the hell was he supposed to capture souls? “I’m not—”

  The fog slammed in his belly like a punch from a Titan. He flew against a rock pillar. Pain exploded through him. Grunting, Nik lifted his head to find his arms spread apart as if nailed to a cross, yet nothing held him up against the obelisk.

  “You will learn…” Sinister laughter echoed in his mind. “You cannot escape this fate warrior…”

  A mind-numbing chill seeped into him from the dark, foggy wasteland where nothing moved.

  Time passed. He continued to hang by his frozen arms for endless nights. Forgotten. By his jailors this time. He would have laughed at the irony if he could. But his throat had dried out. Hunger twisted his belly.

  Then the icy winds and sleet swept in, lashing him like blades, ripping at his clothes and slicing through skin and flesh. Blood flowed, freezing into icicles.

  Unending pain consumed him, but he forced his sealed, dry lips apart. Some of the sulfuric-tasting slushes fell into his mouth, wetting and burning his swollen tongue, barely easing his thirst.

  “You belong to ussss, warrior…” The eerie voices hissed as the agitating, ghoulish fogs reappeared. “Seek the sssouls we desire...”

  A cyclone hauled him up and tossed him into some dark, dank place with rocky outcrops.

  Nik pulled to his feet and stumbled about, the stench of death saturating him. Thick sulfuric air constricted his lungs, burning his nose. He coughed, his slow healing wounds splitting open, warm blood flowing down his sunken stomach.

  A cacophony of shrieks erupted. Dark energy came at him like an agitating cloud, crashing into him, their screams reverberating through his skull. He tripped and fell.

  The insidious snarls inside him grew, and then he knew. The malevolent souls of the foulest demons found in the deepest part of Hell had violated him, entered him. He retched, but nothing came out as he dry-heaved.

  Breathing hard, Nik tightened his mind shields. Theós, he didn’t want these things inside him. Then the battering started as they tried to escape. He clenched his teeth in agony, ignoring the pull on his psyche to move, wishing for death.

  A snarl erupted. Nik’s gore-sealed eyelids snapped open. Glowing red orbs floated toward him, then the hazy shape of a huge, hellish beast took form. It stalked closer.

  Weakened from starvation, Nik knew he couldn’t fight the damn thing, but anger erupted. He shot to his feet as the hellbeast leaped through the heavy dank air, colliding with him and taking him down to the jagged ground. Nik rammed a fist into its snout. It growled, reared back. Fangs, the size of his forearms, sank into his thigh, and the beast loped off, dragging Nik over the jagged terrain, tearing the flesh off his back as they moved. His skull cracked against a rocky outcrop, knocking him out…

  Nik shuddered awake again, to a foul, misty mouth on his, drawing out the souls.

  Teeth gritted, he fought off the ghouls, but his fist just went through air.

  “You fight thisss!” A hiss of fury.

  Icy, foggy talons plunged into his chest, ripping his sternum apart, dragging out the screeching souls. Blood poured, pooling around him. A massive maw opened in the agitating mist, widening into a carnivorous hole, shoveling the souls into its gorge.

  “More, wantsss more…” A furious bellow.

  But death claimed him. Finally…

  His eyes snapped opened. Nik took in the dark, cold wastelands. No—!

  Invisible hands picked him up and flung him through the air. Nik landed hard, crashing on the horrifically icy ground amidst mutilated bodies. He shoved to his feet, evading the dark energy darting about as blood-curdling screams rented the air.

  Souls blasted into him in a hail of arrows. Then the internal battering started. Teeth clenched, he fought the tug back to his sadistic jailors and grabbed onto a rocky outcrop.

  A low growl. Deadly fangs clamped into his belly and ripped the flesh off. Blood gushed. The hellhound refastened its mammoth maw on his thigh, dragging him back to his soul-eating keepers.

  Emaciated hands shoved into his chest, tearing through flesh and bone. The ghouls fed. Then merciful darkness and death…

  He awakened again and hunted for them, returning to the same fate. Over and over. No food. Just sulfuric water.

  Months. Years. Centuries passed.

  Time, endless time.

  He moved like the dead. No feeling, no emotions, with only thoughts of getting those souls…

  And millennia later, he still suffered the same fucking fate at every blood moon.

  Jaw tight, Nik scrubbed his face and paced, waiting for the inevitable.

  Shadow sighed and braced her forearms on the granite balustrade. Neither the cool night’s breeze nor her earlier shower calmed the restlessness within. How could it, when Nik’s words still reverberated in her head hours later?

  While you contemplate short-term, I don’t.

  He hadn’t come back to the monastery. She had no idea if he’d gone off on patrol or… God, she pressed a palm to her cramping tummy. Was avoiding her?

  Still, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something wasn’t right…that he needed her. But she’d made that mistake back in the castle.

  When it came to Nik, her emotions went haywire.

  She scrubbed her face and tracked back to the wooden chair where she’d left her washed underwear to dry, picked it up, and pulled it on. With no clothes here, she had to make do and recycle what she wore. As she smoothed the large sweater over her short plaid skirt, a faint masculine scent drifted to her. Unable to stop herself, she pressed the soft knit to her nose, inhaling deeply.

  Ugh, this wasn’t helping. She flopped down on the chair, propped her feet on the old wooden table, and wrapped her arms around her waist, her restless mind slipping to Joyce, hoping the woman had taken her advice and had gone to The Shelter.

  With hours to go and nothing to do until Nik’s return, her edginess grew like fire ants beneath her skin—

  “You can’t catch me, Shady Shadow…” Shadow froze at the childish voice echoing in her mind and desperately tried to hang onto the wisp of a memory, but it dissipated like mist. Christ, she rubbed her achy temples, wishing she knew who the voice belonged to.

  She jumped to her feet, needing to keep moving. Her gaze settled on the granite balustrade. Hell, why not?

  Adrenaline pumping, she grasped the pillar, leaped onto the rail—her kicks giving her enough of a grip—grabbed the support beam, and scrambled up onto the roof. The wound on her chest pulled a little, but it didn’t stop her.

  More in her element now, she raced along the slightly sloping rooftop, her gaze darting to the dark clouds submerging a part of the tower, her destination. Exhilarated, she slowed near the circular structure, but a glow coming from below drew her. Shadow skirted around the turret to the rim of the roof and peered down into the courtyard.

  Beneath the tree in the backyard, the angel, Lore, practiced with some kind of glowing sword, the weapon leaving shimmery waves in the air. Curious, she grasped the edge of the roof and swung down, landing on her feet like a cat. />
  Lore stopped mid-swing, his expression a little annoyed. “Human, you put yourself in danger.”

  “I’m fine.” She studied the shimmering weapon. “You use that to kill—”

  “Demons.” He rested the silver sword against his black, tunic-clad shoulder, waiting.

  Right. Shadow furtively eased back, just in case the sword possessed demon seeking magic or something and detected her other, darker side.

  A sharp, pulsing sensation tugged at her to move. Her throbbing nodes jacked up, and she pressed a hand to injured chest, biting back a wince of pain. Maybe a demon about?

  As if. None would find the Guardians’ warded residence. They were zealous about their privacy, so she’d learned while at the castle.

  But she had to get out of here before Lore sensed her strumming nodes and their demonic connection. She didn’t want a Heavenly weapon in her chest.

  “I’m going to explore this ghostly monastery.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s fun.” Please don’t say you’re coming, too.

  “Suit yourself.” He went back to his sword dance.

  Thank God. He’d probably know if danger was around, anyway.

  Shadow headed indoors. Once clear of the angel, she raced along the cracks marbling the granite floor in the softly lit corridor. Moments later, she entered a gloomy, seemingly unused part of the monastery, and she stopped at a bricked-up passage.

  Musty air hung dank and heavy here. The pull inside her didn’t subside. In fact, it ramped up like earlier today when she’d thought Nik was in trouble…but he was out on patrol.

  A sudden chilly breeze swept past, and she shivered. She rubbed her arms, spying a narrow entrance in the shadows. A wooden door stood slightly ajar.

  Cautiously, she stepped through and made her way down the crudely excavated steps going deeper into the mountain.

  The stairs spilled into a dark corridor. Only her keen eyesight prevented her from crashing into the granite wall. As if invisible strings drew her, she followed the tug inside her along the passageway. Torches burned, casting eerie shadows, revealing the dingy walls and a ceiling thick with cobwebs. Heck, she lived underground, the dark didn’t scare her, but this place had a spooky vibe. The several wooden doors she passed were far too close to each other, almost like narrow crypts.