by Larissa Ione
“Are you Tayla?” Sin vaguely remembered Lore mentioning that Eidolon’s mate was a Guardian, and this woman was wearing a weapons harness beneath her jacket and a scabbard at her hip. Sin totally respected that.
“Yeah.” Tayla absently rocked the infant in her arms as she watched Shade and Eidolon work on Runa. Some of the staff had dispersed to handle an incoming trauma, leaving the scene open for Sin and Tayla to see everything going on.
Sin emulated the Guardian’s rocking motion. Tried to, anyway. For some reason her baby jiggled a lot more than Tayla’s did. “What happened to Runa?”
“I don’t know,” Tayla said. “I got to Shade’s place right after he did. Runa was unconscious and Rade was gone.”
“Rade?”
Fury turned Tayla’s green eyes into a forest on fire. “One of the triplets.”
Sin peered down at the squirming baby she held, unable to imagine someone stealing something so small and innocent. “Do you know who did it? Or why?”
“No. But if anything happens to him…” She trailed off, and Sin filled in the blanks. The kidnapper was so dead. Probably was whether or not the child was hurt.
“Sh-Shade?” Runa’s voice was reedy and weak, but both Eidolon and Shade appeared relieved to have heard it at all.
“Thank gods,” Shade whispered. “What is it, lirsha?” He gently stroked her cheek with his fingertips. His throat worked repeatedly on hard swallows, and Sin got the impression he was trying to hold back tears.
Runa blinked, her gaze unfocused, but Sin saw the moment everything came back to her with horrifying clarity. Shade’s mate screamed and levered up so fast no one had a chance to push her back down.
“Rade! Where is he?”
“Runa, calm down—”
“Where?” She fisted Shade’s shirt and dragged him down to her. “He has him. Oh, my God, he has him! Have to find him…” Sobbing, Runa struggled to get out of bed, but Eidolon injected something into her IV line. Almost instantly, she grew dazed, her eyes unfocused, and Shade was able to ease her back onto the bed.
“Runa? What happened? Who has our son?”
“I can feel him… but he’s so far away…”
“He’s alive then. Thank gods.” Shade squeezed her shoulder gently. “Runa, tell me what happened.”
“I tried to fight… so hard…” Tears streamed down her face as she lay there, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “He said… he said we have to hand over Kynan within twenty-four hours. Or… or…”
Shade gathered her against him and used his big body to buffer her powerful sobs. In Sin’s arms, the baby sobbed.
Misery like Shade had never known tore through him, his own considerable pain magnified by Runa’s. She was strong, and her physical pain was bearable, but her emotional agony was a hot blade through the soul.
We have to hand over Kynan within twenty-four hours. Or else.
Only one person wanted Kynan that badly. The weird sense of malevolence that had overtaken the hospital lately seemed to seep inside Shade through the laceration in his soul, adding fuel to the rage and hatred that bubbled like molten metal in his heart. Gently, he lowered Runa, now knocked out from whatever E had dosed her with. He barely held himself together as he snatched up the dagger that had been impaled in his mate’s body and stalked toward Sin.
She held her ground as he approached, even though he knew his eyes had gone red and she could probably feel the anger radiating off of him.
“Shade—” E palmed his shoulder, but Shade shrugged him off and planted himself in front of Sin. Wraith burst out of the Harrowgate.
Hilt-first, Shade thrust the dagger at his sister. “Who does this belong to?”
Sin drew a startled breath. “Where did you get it?”
“Answer the question.”
Her eyes flashed with annoyance, but she smelled of anxiety.
“Sin!” His bark made her jump and made little Stryke stop crying.
“It’s Lore’s.” Somehow, she made her answer sound like a challenge.
He might have respected that, had this been any other situation. As it was, a dark, icy void formed in his chest. Despite everything that had happened, most of the time he hadn’t truly hoped for Lore’s death. For some reason, when he was away from the hospital and Eidolon, he could actually settle down and think rationally. And ironically, Runa had championed Lore. It wasn’t that she wanted Kynan to die; she just wanted Shade to not give up on any of his brothers.
It was too late for that.
“Where is he?”
Stepping back, Sin actually tucked Stryke closer to her chest, as though Shade might be a danger to his own son. “You can’t think he had anything to do with your mate’s injuries or your son’s disappearance.”
“Where. Is. He?”
“Listen to me—”
“Where?”
“He’s being tortured right now, okay?” She met his gaze levelly and with defiance. “He couldn’t have done it because he’s being tortured.”
“Did you witness it?”
“No, but, he wouldn’t have done this,” she snapped. “And there’s no way in hell he’d have left the dagger behind.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I gave it to him. He’d never have given it up willingly. Never.”
Shade didn’t give a shit about sentimental value, and right now, he didn’t give a shit what Sin thought she knew about her brother, either. “Go to him,” Shade growled. “Go to him and tell him I want to see him. Now.”
Sin handed over Stryke. “I will. And I’ll expect you to grovel at his feet and ask forgiveness when I prove you wrong.” She glanced at Wraith as though she had something to say to him, but after a brief shake of the head, she took off, disappearing into the Harrowgate.
The moment she was gone, Shade hugged Stryke close and rounded on E, whose face was sallow, his gaze haunted.
“This is your fault,” he snarled. “You son of a bitch, that bastard nearly killed Runa, and he has my son because you refused to do what was necessary.” Shade’s hands shook with the need to strike out, but instead he tightened his grip on his son. “If I didn’t need you to take care of Runa, I’d tear you apart right now.”
“You need to back off, Shade,” Tayla said, her voice low and calm, so as not to frighten the babies, but the underlying warning was clear. “Before you say something you’ll regret.”
“There are a lot of things I regret,” he said, never taking his eyes off Eidolon, “but trust me, nothing I say here will be one of them.” He turned to Wraith, who looked as pissed as if his own child had been taken. “I can’t leave Runa or the babies, and I don’t trust Sin to do anything but tell Lore to run. Find him, Wraith. Find him, kill him, and bring back my son.”
Nineteen
Sin sprinted down the assassin den’s narrow halls, her weapons clanking against her hip, her breasts, the small of her back. She had to find Lore. Had to see for herself that he wasn’t responsible for what had happened to Runa and the baby.
Not that she had any doubt. Lore would never harm a child. He’d been hired or ordered to kill them before, and refused… actions that had resulted in days of bleeding at the hands of Deth’s special torturers. The ones he called Peelers.
Sin shuddered and silently cursed Deth and his unholy minions.
But what if Lore had taken the child as leverage, with no plans to harm it—just to frighten Shade into giving up Kynan? She couldn’t imagine his being so ruthless as to hurt Runa like that, and he certainly wouldn’t be sloppy enough to leave his dagger behind, but…
Oh, God.
Her sprint turned into an uncontrolled mad dash. She ran wildly through the den, bouncing off walls and knocking over Sunil, a tiger shifter with an unusually docile nature. He didn’t even curse at her when she sent him sprawling. Lycus, however, did. The male warg had always despised her, and his nasty promise of retribution clocked hang time in the icy air as she ran.
Ahe
ad, the door to Deth’s chamber opened, and in the pale orange light streaming from the opening, a dark figure threw a large shadow. Encased in black robes, he swept down the hall, away from Sin, but not before she caught a glimpse of something squirming in his hands.
A tiny, pale foot draped over the crook of his arm. “Rade,” she whispered.
Heart pounding, she sprinted toward the demon. “Hey! Stop!” The male cast her a hateful glare over his shoulder, picked up his pace, rounded a corner… and vanished.
Shit! Furious, and on the verge of freaking out, she hauled ass to Detharu’s chamber, where her master was near the hearth, naked and observing as a new female Drekevac assassin was being held down by two guards and forcibly fitted for a tongue piercing. Deth’s eyes were bright, his cock swollen, and Sin knew the female on her knees was in for a rude introduction to the world of the Detharu brotherhood.
“Yo. Deth. Where’s Lore?”
“Below. He’s free to go.”
She blinked. “Can he be moved?”
“He will be healed.”
Thank God. She cleared her throat. “The male who just left. Who is he?”
“Rariel?” Deth reached out to stroke the female’s spiny head as her jaw was forced open. “Why?”
“Just curious.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.” He cut a sharp wave of his hand. “Be gone.”
His tone left no room for argument—he’d already been much more helpful than she’d expected, probably because he was distracted by his new acquisition. That, and all his blood had run south and left him stupid.
“Just one more thing… the infant. Was it his?”
Deth’s head swiveled around as if it was on a ball bearing, and she knew she’d gone too far. “One more word, and you will join Ystla on her knees.”
The female cried out as the piercing punched through her tongue. Sin had escaped that fate years ago, thanks to a loophole in her contract—a loophole Deth had since found a way around. Sin definitely didn’t want him to take advantage of his underhanded maneuverings now.
“And remind your brother that time is running out for him to deliver the human’s head.”
She nodded just deeply enough to satisfy his need for bowing and scraping, and headed for the staircase that would lead to the dungeon below.
“Lore?”
Lore groaned at the sound of Sin’s voice, groaned more as she cut him down from the beam he’d been hanging from. “Where’s Idess?” he croaked. His throat was as raw as if he’d been screaming for days, and his jaws ached from avoiding doing just that. “Where?”
“Where you left her, I’d assume.” Sin eased him to his knees in the pool of his own blood and held a cup of water to his parched lips.
Yes… that’s right. He’d left her at his house. She’d wanted to be with him, and he’d turned her down. He’d risked rage instead of stripping her to the skin and taking her as he should have.
Can’t have her. She’ll die.
But he needed her. The rage was running through his blood like motor oil, thickening and becoming more and more contaminated the longer it kept circulating.
“She’s going to be pissed at me.” He fell forward to his hands and knees as the room spun. His thoughts spun, too, all running together until he wasn’t sure what were memories and what were fantasies. “She’s how I got through this, Sin. I kept thinking about her. I can’t have her, but I kept thinking about her and I know she’s mad and fuck I’m babbling.”
“Little bit.” She nudged his lips with the cup. “Don’t worry about that right now. We’re leaving.”
“Deth’s not finished with me.” The torturer hadn’t worked her way to Lore’s front side yet, and there was still an entire rack of tools that hadn’t been used. Nope, Lore had several hours of pliers-in-fun-places still to come.
“Deth said you can go.”
“Why?” He gulped the cool water gratefully, but spat out a mouthful when a horrible thought came to him. “What kind of deal did you make with him?”
“None.”
Pain made him grumpy, and he swatted the cup away to get her attention. “What are you not telling me?”
The fact that Sin didn’t scold him for his uncharacteristic display of temper told him that this was going to be bad. Suddenly every one of the lacerations on his back felt as if it had its very own heartbeat.
“Shade’s mate was nearly killed, and his son taken.” Sin’s voice was grave. “You’ve been framed for it.”
“Dammit.” The rage in his blood turned to sludge, and his muscles started to twitch as though wanting to punch through his skin. “Goddammit!” Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and wondered how he was going to get out of this mess. “Did you tell Wraith I need to talk to him? If he can get inside Deth’s head—”
“Uh… did you miss how I said you were framed? I’m thinking you should avoid your brothers right now. At least until we get proof that you aren’t responsible.”
“I need them more than ever, Sin.” And wow, he never thought he’d say that.
“No, you don’t. I think I know who did it.”
Lore whipped his head around to stare at his sister. “Who?”
“Dude named Rariel. I saw him come out of Deth’s chamber with Rade.”
“Long black hair? Robes?”
“Yep.”
Son of a bitch. He’d known that asshole had been up to something. “You need to tell our brothers.”
“They won’t believe me. They’ll think I’m lying to save you.”
She was probably right. “Do you think you can find him?” His sister was one of the best trackers in the den.
“You bet. I’ll meet you at your place in an hour. I should have a lead by then.” She smiled grimly. “In the meantime, sharpen your weapons.”
His muscles rippled hotly again, and he gnashed his teeth, breathed through them as he held back the darkness that wanted to get out and swallow a whole lot of people.
The door to the pit creaked open, and an unfamiliar blond Seminus entered. “I’m Tavin. Detharu sent me to heal you.”
This was a first, but Lore wasn’t going to complain. “Just don’t touch my dermoire,” he said to the Sem. He didn’t know if it would kill the guy or not—Lore’s brothers and sister were immune, but he didn’t know if it was because they were siblings or because they were Seminus demons, and he didn’t want to test that right now.
“If you can knock me out while you’re healing me, do,” Lore gritted out. “Otherwise, we’re looking at a shitload of trouble.”
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Sin asked quietly, and Lore nodded.
Tavin cocked a blond eyebrow. “What’s he close to?”
“Gutting you with his teeth. And that’s just for starters.” Sin stood. “Put him out, or you won’t have a chance to wish you had.”
Lore woke, completely healed and lying on the ground outside the Harrowgate near his house. Someone had even cleaned him off and dressed him. Probably Sin. She’d nursed him through a lot of beatings.
The rage still burned in him, but whatever Tavin had done during the healing had eased it a little. The fact that he was no longer in pain helped a lot, too.
He hoped he could keep a handle on his Incredible Hulk until he talked to Idess to figure out who the hell would have framed him, and why. Her theory that this whole thing was about him and not her was starting to seem more plausible.
He had to find this Rariel guy and get Rade back. Crazily enough, it wasn’t even because the kid was his nephew. It was just the right thing to do. He laughed at that as he approached his house. Idess was rubbing off on him, infecting him with her do-gooder angel vibes or something.
He entered his shack through the back door, and before he’d made it five steps, Idess was in his face. “Damn you! How dare you sneak away like that! I’ve been looking all over for you. And—” She paused in her tirade to look him over. “You didn’t get tortured. You’re okay.” She flew
into his arms, startling the hell out of him and knocking him back a step. “Thank the Lord, you’re okay. The guilt was killing me.”
“Yeah,” he said, hoping she didn’t notice that he’d had to speak around a lump in his throat. Or that he now had a raging boner. “I’m okay.”
She pulled back. “So where did you go?”
“To the den.” Gently, he set her away from him and eased around her. He’d grossly underestimated his body’s response to her, and even now it vibrated with the need to throw her down and take her hard and fast. It was partly about the rage, and partly about the fact that it was just… Idess. He wanted her, and there was no denying it. Wanted her so badly that when he’d been strung up in Deth’s torture chamber, he’d entertained crazy ideas while in the haze of pain.
He wanted to bond with her so she’d be his forever. He wanted to come inside her over and over, so that his semen would act like a drug, becoming something she craved as her orgasms became stronger and longer-lasting. But he wasn’t a purebred Sem, so could any of that happen?
Even if it could, she was an angel. They couldn’t be together. Not permanently. No doubt the big guy upstairs frowned on demon-angel relationships, and even if not, she’d be Ascending soon. Leaving him.
But all of that was a moot point anyway. His stupid death gift ruled out a relationship of any kind, and if that wasn’t enough, they had the elephant named Kynan in the room.
Grinding his molars in frustration, he made a beeline for his booze, and stopped short at the layout on the table. Pasta with chicken and an olive-packed red sauce. Garlic bread twists. Colorful steamed vegetables. His stomach growled like a south Sheoul tar pit.
“I thought you might be hungry when you got back.” Her hands came down gently on his shoulders, and the lump in his throat grew bigger. “Because if you were tortured…”
His heart clenched. She’d been worried about him, and she’d worked off her nervous energy by cooking. Her fingers began a deep massage into his shoulders as he bit into a bread stick and groaned. And she was a fantastic cook, too. He could barely make a sandwich.