Fierce Dawn

by Scott, Amber

  “We can what? Pick up where we left off? Assuming Crusoe is alive, not brainwashed, wants to return, is over Holly and then what? Contact High Council and report for duty again?” He stretched his wings out, reflexively.

  Lyric looked away. “No, I suppose you’re right.” He shrugged. “Least things have gotten interesting, eh?”

  Elijah snorted. “Leave it to you to enjoy all this upheaval.”

  The sound of a metal door echoed up to them, silencing Lyric’s rebuttal. Services appeared to be soon commencing. In unison, they strode to the far ledge, out of view, and dropped off to the ground. Elijah retracted his wings. Walking into staked territory full flexed would send the wrong message. They were here for answers. For now.

  Elijah’d be lying if he denied anticipating a good battle, though. The very idea sent adrenaline rippling through his veins. The buzz of it cut the fog Sadie left behind. He welcomed the clarity and entered the assemblage craving the taste of a nice, bloody brawl. Maybe it showed. Because a high-pitched hiss immediately met his ears. Charity. She saw them from across the room and charged.

  Humans rushed aside as the feeder hyper-sped across the floor. Lyric tried to stand between them, but Elijah wanted the fight. He stepped around Lyric and flew at her. Metal chairs crashed. A woman cried out. Elijah clenched his fists and braced for her venomous impact. Her body hit his like a thunderclap, sending them to the concrete floor. Her hands wound around his neck, stronger than he’d imagined. Her signature tug in his chest pulled taut and hard and he at last realized she was trying to feed.

  Lyric managed to separate them and forced Elijah back several feet. “Not here,” he growled.

  For once in his life, Elijah didn’t care.

  Three of her feeders skulked closer, rage in their eyes. Elijah knocked Lyric out of his way. This soul-sucking scum would pay. All the rage and anger he’d carried over failing Crusoe, the pent up tension and guilt from his encounter with Sadie, all coiled and burst forth.

  He pounced on Charity and dragged her to the floor, his hands around her neck. He bound his wings around her and transported their bodies to the rooftop he’d perched on moments before. If not for his fatigue, he’d have taken her all the way to his favorite Godforsaken Nevada desert.

  Her elbow jabbed into his ribs. Elijah grunted. The crack confirmed she broke at least one of his bones there. Freed, his anger exploded. He embraced it and head-butted her. Her low sick hum rang through him. Charity laughed and force-fed his mind images. Lyric on the ground, flopping like a fish, naked, his eyes lolling back, his erection bleeding. Her above his erection. Her body drenched in blood, a little girl crying in the corner with torn panties around her ankles.

  The visions hit him with sharp pain. He doubled over against the glass like shards. A low guttural howl rolled out of his chest, out of his mouth and the most primal urge he’d ever known overtook him.

  Kill.

  He wanted her destroyed. Limp and lifeless, her blood on his hands. Kill her. Kill anyone. Anything. She danced around him, drinking in his pain, feeding off of him. He roared against the drain. The pain in his chest racked his bones.

  “I know what you’ve found, Elijah,” Charity whispered at his ear. “If you want to keep your little sweet a secret, you know what you will have to do.”

  Elijah pushed against the flood of heart wrenching images. Children, starving and beaten. A teenaged boy raping a little girl, friends around him laughing, cheering him on. Bile rose up his throat. Charity danced another circle around his crouched body, blurry in his unsteady vision. He lunged at her.

  He missed. She chortled in glee. “Yes, that’s it. Fight! I knew you’d be beyond delicious, Elijah. I want more. I’ve waited and waited. Now give me more.”

  More vile images of Lyric. His friend weeping, naked and prone in a dark alley. Lyric begging her for mercy.

  A new image. Lyric sober, standing atop a mountain peak, the sunrise bursting behind him. The image erased the pain in him, leaving cool, clean energy in its wake. Elijah breathed. This wasn’t from Charity. It came from Lyric. His life-long friend.

  His brother.

  Charity paused, obviously assuming she still gripped his mind. How had Lyric masked the feed so she wouldn’t notice it ending? She bent close and ran her hands down his back, pressing her breasts against him. “Mmmm. Don’t stop.” She lifted her skirt with one hand, shoving at his head with the other. “Now!”

  A bloody image of Lyric entered his mind, then dissolved. A new wave of quiet crashed through him. White light, pure and clean. An image of Sadie, laughing. From Lyric. Elijah caught his breath and tore his mind from her entanglements. The last remnants of pain rolled off of him and into Charity. One last image came to him, and Elijah thanked the stars he recognized it—the first warehouse they’d searched at dawn and it was nearby. In a surge, he tackled her again, catching her in his arms and wings, shoving their bodies to Lyric’s projected location.

  Charity wrestled free. Elijah shot a sonic wave forward, knocking her to the ground. Within a breath, Lyric captured one arm, Elijah the other. Together they pinned her to the oily concrete floor. She screeched, loud and bloodthirsty, like a trapped animal.

  “Enough,” Lyric hissed, gripping her face in his hand, placing a knee on her arm. “Your games are over, Charity. If you wish to leave here alive you will tell me everything you know about the Illeautians and my brother, Crusoe.”

  She spat, hissing. Elijah gripped her tighter. If she didn’t do as Lyric said, after all the depravity she had revealed, he would destroy her himself.

  “You’ve prolonged this as far as it will go,” Lyric said. Elijah recognized the look on Lyric’s face. He was feeding Charity. Whatever he fed her rendered her motionless.

  “I think you already know, Lyric.” Defeat relaxed her features. “You both have always known but refused to see what is right before you.”

  Elijah lifted a hand, ready to slice through the air at her jugular, a death blow. She closed her eyes, waiting. Lyric caught his wrist. He shook his head. “It wasn’t real, Elijah. None of what she showed you was real. Simply vivid lies. No more.”

  Pain welled in Lyric’s eyes as he held Elijah’s gaze. Elijah dropped his arm. It was time to go home.

  “If you kill her, there will be no turning back. Eventually, right or wrong, enforcement will come.”

  Lyric was right. Elijah settled for a solid punch to her temple, knocking her out.

  They left.

  All those months, all the blood use, had Lyric been trying to find Crusoe? Elijah wouldn’t ask now. He didn’t know if he’d ever ask. Charity had exploited Lyric to the fullest degree. Some things might best be left to die in the past.

  Once they were home there would be plenty else to discuss. The journey home took twice as long as it should have, hours rather than minutes. He was tired. Elijah could find no comforting thought except of Sadie. Their last hope. More than that, his last hope. His body craved her and though he would hate himself tomorrow, tonight, he needed her.

  He needed her to make today disappear.

  Elijah transported them to the foyer and left Lyric, going directly to his bedroom. Sadie wasn’t there. Lyric had followed.

  “How much time do you need?” Lyric asked.

  Grateful that his friend understood what he was after and meant to help, Elijah shook his head helplessly. He didn’t know how long he would need her. An eternity sounded so small.

  “I’ll put Holly off as long as I can.”

  “Thank you,” Elijah said, watching his friend—his brother—leave the room. His disappointment in finding the room empty dissipated once he realized it gave him time to shower the grime from his weary body.

  After toweling off, he donned loose cotton pants. He’d cinched the drawstring and he sensed her coming. His chest ached at the welcome familiarity, her hummingbird wing hum. His gaze held spellbound in hope on the door. Could he be so lucky as to have one more day with her before his magneti
c pull no longer drew her?

  Sadie rushed through the door and shut it with enough haste, his doubts dissolved. Her eyes met his and the longing shining back at him crashed through the last of his resolve. He went to her.

  His mouth found hers and staggering relief and pleasure hit him. If only this could last. If only it didn’t risk so much more. He refused to think the word. Human hearts were fickle. How much could hers change? How could he even begin to contemplate binding his soul to another?

  It was the pull. The primal, bone deep lust driving him.

  Sadie whimpered. The sound reverberated through him, intensifying his ardor. The electricity between them intoxicated him and with every kiss, every touch, he grew deliciously drunk, losing rational thought to sensation.

  “Elijah,” she whispered over and again.

  Time suspended. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He made quick order of undressing her as well as himself. The heat between their bodies, skin on skin, was magic. More so, the slick wetness between her legs, begging for him. He would touch every inch of her, devour every last pleasure until the darkness of sleep swallowed them both up.

  Sadie writhed beneath him, positioning against the engorged tip of his cock. Her eyes locked to his. Her nails dug in. “I want you,” she said, desire thickening her voice. She tipped her hips upward.

  Lost, he crushed his mouth to hers, sliding into her in one sure stroke. Sweet Heaven. He’d never known such perfection. Her hot, wet walls. Her vibration singing to him. Her hands caressing his shoulders and chest. He moved in. Out. Together they built a rhythm beating upward into a high crescendo. But he didn’t want it to end.

  He stopped. Sadie moaned, writhing under him.

  He closed his eyes against the sight of her small breasts, their nipples pointing forth, willing him to shoot his seed into her depths. She wriggled more, moaning, panting. Her body tensed. Her heat pulsed around his. He opened his eyes, unable to resist witnessing the splendor washing over her.

  Her eyes closed, her mouth parted. Her neck arched. She moaned, her body clenching his cock.

  Elijah bent and sucked one nipple. She cried out. He trailed his tongue up her neckline. He drank in her features, the splay of her blonde hair. She fell still, replete, and he began again. He stroked into her. Out. Slow at first, then swiftly until his arms ached, his wrists throbbed and he could no longer support his own weight.

  Sadie twisted. He followed her lead and they rolled over.

  She arched her back and groaned on top of him. “God, Elijah. You feel so good.”

  He throbbed. He wanted to say the same but the words died as she rode his cock. Up and down his shaft, winding circling bliss drowning him in ecstasy. He wouldn’t be able to stop again. His climax pushed to the surface and feeling her spasm around his shaft again undid him completely. Elijah hugged her close, his fingers digging into her shoulders. “Sadie,” he called out. Pleasure ripped through him.

  Like a sedative, traces of his climax ebbed away and sapped his strength. His arms dropped to the bed. Sadie rolled off of him and nestled into the crook of his arm. His limbs were so tired.

  “Welcome back,” Sadie said, breathlessly.

  Elijah laughed. “I can honestly say it is amazing to be back.” Even empty-handed.

  Sadie ran her fingers over the contours of his chest. Strangely, he didn’t feel tired, but invigorated instead. “Tell me everything,” he said, hefting one arm to pull her close. “What happened while we were gone?”

  Sadie gave him what felt like the abbreviated version. He let her finish, enjoying the soft feel of her skin under his fingers.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” he asked, certain he suspected right.

  Sadie rolled back and wiped her forehead. She sighed. “My sister may or may not be about to call in the cavalry on me.”

  Elijah adjusted, propping up on an elbow. “Well, we can take you home tomorrow, set everything back onto a normal tone. With Charity no longer a threat and Monica here, you’ll be safe again.”

  “Did you kill her?”

  “No. But she won’t harm you.”

  “How can you know?”

  “Because she has no reason to.” The images Lyric sent him on their journey home were still fresh in his memory. “She never knew where Crusoe was. She has no links to the Illeautians. It was all a ruse to string Lyric along. Then to get to me.”

  “It was all a waste?”

  “It feels like it. But I suppose that’s pessimistic. Charity inadvertently led us to Monica by following her, making Monica search for you.” She forced him to protect Sadie and to discover this wonder. He wouldn’t think about hurting her in the end. “Monica joining us may help. At least the Illeautians won’t find her.”

  Sadie adjusted next to him.

  “How did Charity lead you to Monica?”

  Elijah smiled. “As part of her scheme. Toying with the changeling for amusement forced her out of hiding so I could hear her trace.” Then he realized there had to be more. But what? “Charity said we already knew the truth, but couldn’t see it.”

  “Monica has tapped into her powers.”

  “Yes, well, she’s had more time to. I think having her here will help you find yours.”

  She quieted for a moment. Before he could ask what bothered her, she spoke. “What about Crusoe? You seem…I don’t know…you seem confident despite what seems like a dead end. Wasted time.”

  “I can’t give up hope we’ll find him, or even the Book, eventually.” Something in her tone set off internal alarms. He sat up so he could see her face, eyed her a moment. “What are you trying to tell me, Sadie?”

  “I worry you’re placing too much confidence in my transformation. What if I fail? He’s like a brother to you…and I….”

  He’d burdened her with his own vendetta, he realized. Was she doing all of this for him? Guilt prickled his chest. “Let me worry about Crusoe,” he said softly. “All you need to worry about is your training, and your family.” She kept her eyes averted until he tucked a finger under her chin. “Agreed?”

  She nodded but her eyes were glassy. “Agreed,” she said.

  Elijah lay back, looked at the ceiling, letting her hum soothe him. He let his eyes close and surrendered to his deep fatigue.

  “Elijah, I don’t know what will happen now,” Sadie whispered. “But I need to say, I love you.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Sadie spoke the words and could not take them back. Elijah was not asleep and instantly, she knew he’d heard her. His body tensed. Dread engulfed her brain. If she could take the words back, would she?

  He sat up. She forced her eyes open and sat up as well.

  “Sadie,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I owe you an apology.”

  She stiffened. “For what?”

  “I’ve been selfish and distracted and there are things you should know.”

  Her stomach sank. She bit her lip to stop its tremble. “Like?” She would listen. She wanted answers.

  “What you know of love, of mortal love, it doesn’t work the same with immortals.”

  She folded her arms.

  Elijah braced his hands behind his head then let them fall. “Humans love a lot. They love fast. Their love seldom lasts. Outside of parental love, familial love, it rarely runs soul deep.”

  Sadie bit down harder. She could hear the end coming. She couldn’t stop it and wouldn’t. Once he knew she had no messenger powers, he’d be saying goodbye anyhow. She’d come to terms with that. She’d settled for hoping for one last night. If Charity was no longer a threat, there was no longer a reason for her to stay here. She would not be able to help him locate Crusoe anyhow.

  “Without a need to pass on our DNA, like a human, the game changes. Sex is more casual.”

  “I’ve heard enough.” More than enough. Saying goodbye—ending it, was one thing. Marginalizing what they’d shared was another.

  �
��You misunderstand me. What I’m saying is that an immortal rarely loves.”

  She couldn’t speak past the hot anger.

  “Sex isn’t necessarily a factor. Sex comes and goes. Love is permanent and soul binding and in the case of real, true love, what is more than friendship and more than family, chooses you. You do not choose it.”

  Was he getting angry, too? Now that would be perfect. Just perfect. “Don’t patronize me,” she managed to say. “Mortal or immortal, whatever I am right now, don’t treat me like some child who doesn’t know her own feelings.”

  “Sadie,” he implored, “I am not saying what you feel is not real. I know it is more real and more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced. But that doesn’t make it love. It means you are deeply affected by my magnetism and I am right now as well. What I feel for you is incredible. I’m powerless to it. But it won’t last. It will pass along with the last layers of the mortal shell you’re shedding.”

  “What if I’m already done? How can you know? How can you know at what point I am at in this process? It’s not like you have experience with it. According to Holly, no immortal has. According to Monica, changelings have been kept secret for years, hidden or destroyed, in order to keep the realms separate.”

  “Changeling is exactly my point. No one knows their rules. Especially about love.” Elijah was shaking his head. “I need you to trust me. I don’t want to hurt you, but this is not love.”

  Sadie almost punched him in his perfect jaw. Anger felt so much better than the hurt. “You haven’t been here to see what point I am at. You haven’t spoken with Astrid yet, gotten her evaluation.”

  Was she forcing him to say the worst? Could she survive it when he no longer looked at her with tenderness and care?

  “Astrid left us.” He looked down. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have come to you at all. I gave in and I’ll never forgive myself for not taking your feelings into consideration. I should have known.”