Broken (The Voodoo Revival Series Book 3)

by Victoria Flynn

  “Are you okay?” he asked, checking her over.

  She hadn’t moved from her spot. Was he dead? She was in shock. That was the first time she’d ever done anything like it. If she was honest with herself, she’d never even brought herself to raise a hand to any of the men she’d caught cheating on her.

  “I…I think so?” she said, her voice shaky and unsure.

  He grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look up into his eyes. She saw so much love there, it washed over her in waves.

  “You did what you had to do. Nothing bad, only necessary.”

  It wasn’t so bad when he explained it like that. Zeke might not have even been dead. Though, she’d seen too many cop shows to know for certain that a head blow like that wasn’t fatal.

  She nodded her understanding and did her best to put it behind her.

  They were ready to roll right the hell out of there. Better yet, they were armed and ready to go.

  Arlen waited at the foot of the stairs, listening to the floor above for our best chance. She clung close to his back, waiting for his signal. She tried to banish the image of Zeke’s head snapping away from her.

  Arlen patted her hip, not looking back and began moving up the stairs. She followed right on his heels. Pausing at the top, they glanced in each direction without seeing anyone.

  “People are gathering outside and the guard’s back there,” she motioned back the way they’d came. “Which way should we go?”

  He nodded and pointed towards the throne room. She didn’t understand what he was thinking. She didn’t like the idea one bit.

  “Why? Wouldn’t we be more likely to run into the King? We need to get out of here…”

  “I have to finish this. You don’t understand. He won’t stop until one of us is dead and trust me, Lorik will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

  There it was. It was all out in the open. He wanted revenge and Arlen was intent on spilling blood. She’d always wanted to be the type of woman who would stand by her man even when things got tough. Could she swallow knowing what he was about to do? She didn’t know Lorik, but death was final. She’d seen it.

  This was their first test. Angela’s test. She hoped that their love could overcome the darkness surrounding their hearts.

  Chapter 20

  Arlen

  Arlen pushed the throne room doors open wide and stepped through. His mate was hesitant, but followed his lead.

  The throne room was empty, except for Lorik, who was kneeling before the throne in prayer. It made Arlen sick to think he’d once considered the man a brother and cared for him only to have it returned with hatred. Lorik was poison to those around him. It was only fitting the fucker was succumbing to his own seeds of insanity.

  Better to be praying I end it swiftly for him. So much more than he deserves. Arlen’s thoughts were taking a dark turn. He wanted to put an end it all.

  Lorik never acknowledged Arlen’s presence. He knelt there whispering to himself until Arlen moved around him with his blade trained on the King’s throat. Unnatural black eyes leered up at him.

  He’d never seen anything like Lorik before.

  “You always were the clever one, or you thought you were, anyway,” Lorik said, standing up rigidly.

  Lorik didn’t appear to be armed as he approached. Arlen lowered the weapon by a fraction of an inch. He was at a serious disadvantage compared to Arlen, who was as armed as any of Lorik’s personal guards would be. Arlen wasn’t the type of man to murder an unarmed person, no matter how guilty that person was.

  “Let’s settle this like men, shall we? Or would you gut me like a true barbarian?” Lorik goaded.

  “Fine,” Arlen gritted.

  It was the last request he’d grant the psychopath. Piece by piece, he unloaded his sword and dagger. He placed them in Angie’s care, well out of Lorik’s reach. He didn’t trust the man to play by the basic rules of a fair fight, he’d never understood the meaning of fair. However, if Arlen didn’t abide by the pretense of being fair, Lorik could make Angela pay for it.

  Before he could even turn back to face his brother, a fist collided with the back of his head, blurring his vision momentarily. Arlen staggered away from Angela and Lorik stalked him the entire way.

  Lorik jabbed toward his face again, but Arlen was slightly ahead of him and dodged the blow. It was close though. Too close. Arlen ducked a third swipe and kicked at the side of Lorik’s knee, landing the blow just before a hand met the other side of his head. He wasn’t fast enough to get out of its way that time. Luckily, it only grazed him and wasn’t enough to phase him too much.

  Arlen scrambled backwards, putting space between him and his opponent. It had been too long since he’d fought someone of Lorik’s skill, which had much improved since he’d last seen him. It was a mistake he wouldn’t allow himself to make again.

  Arlen heard the creaking of the entrance doors and someone entering, but couldn’t take his attention from Lorik. He didn’t know what his brother was capable of and a single misstep could be fatal.

  Lorik didn’t even appear to have broken a sweat yet, but Arlen was out for blood. His cheek was sticky with the crimson liquid from a tiny gash and a thin sheen of perspiration had broken out over his brow.

  The pair circled each other in wide tracks around the royal chamber. Arlen caught sight of Angela’s lips moving as she spoke to Brokk before bringing his full attention back to the evil son of a bitch who was toying with him.

  Lorik ducked behind one of the pillars. Arlen has careful as he moved to counter Lorik, but as he came around to the other side, it was vacant.

  Lorik had vanished into thin air.

  He searched the surrounding pillars and eyed the rest of the hall, but he found nothing. Round-eyed, he looked to Angela and Brokk with the hope they’d seen where he’d gone. Both shared the same look he did.

  He took several steps towards the pair, away from the row of pillars.

  “So quick to give up your search. I wonder, would you throw in the towel as easily if you were searching for, oh say, your mate?” came Lorik’s taunting voice from behind him, but when he turned Lorik still hadn’t shown himself.

  Arlen spun towards the voice.

  “Are you such a coward that you have to hide from me rather than fight like a real man?”

  He was like smoke, Lorik slipped into view from thin air. It was as though he’d stepped through a veil between worlds. Arlen watched as Lorik settled a few feet from him.

  “Gods help us. He’s inherited his mother’s gifts,” Arlen sent to Angela through their bond.

  His thoughts went to Reina, Lorik’s mother.

  Charging forth with a burst of speed, Arlen swung at him. He met nothing but air. Lorik had slipped away as vapor again only to reappear a few feet away. He was toying with Arlen and trying to tire him out.

  “First rule in life, brother. Work smarter, not harder.”

  Lorik slipped into a cloud of mist again, but didn’t reappear as quickly as he had before. The tiny hairs on Arlen’s arms rose like they knew he was being stalked, hunted. Arlen made his way around the room. He spun in circles, keeping his steps spry and light.

  “Be careful.”

  His lover’s thoughts reminded him of what he was fighting for. It wasn’t just his love for her, but the love shared by all of his people, people he had abandoned when they needed him most. Instead of stepping up, he’d fed them to the wolves.

  An arm slipped under his chin, locking around his throat, and dragging him off his feet. His hands immediately shot to Lorik’s limb, trying to break his hold, but it was solid and unmoving. He gasped, fighting to draw in air, but couldn’t.

  His mind panicked for a brief moment as he struggled before it flipped over to autopilot. He’d had years of training to counter situations just like that one. Arlen let that knowledge take over. He kicked back at Lorik’s legs trying to knock him off balance. When that was fruitless, he bent forward and then flung himself
back, swinging his head in the process. The back of his head connected with Lorik’s nose with a sickening crack.

  Lorik released his grip, dazed by his broken nose. Arlen dragged heaving gulps of air into his lungs and took the moment of distraction to jump on Lorik, knocking him to the ground. Arlen lost control. Liliana, his mother, even his father, each life taken could be laid at that monster’s feet. He’d taken away everything and was determined to be rid of Arlen, too. Angela would be in danger as long as he walked the Earth.

  His knuckles crashed into Lorik’s struggling body again and again. His face was a mess of blood and forming bruises. As Arlen brought his hand down towards Lorik’s face again, it froze mere inches from his intended target.

  No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force it to close those final few inches. Then, like something out of one of those Star Wars movies, Lorik pulled some Jedi mind trick shit and lifted Arlen into the air without ever lifting a finger.

  Everything inside him felt like it was twisting and contorting into knots. Painfully tight ones. Is this what a heart attack feels like? Arlen wondered. He peeked out towards his mate, her lips were moving, however he heard no sound. Nothing but the ringing in his ears. He was about to have the life squeezed out of him.

  Lorik got to his feet, wiping blood from his nose. The man was hardly recognizable, yet he still stood tall with his shoulders back. His eyes were as dark as onyx and fixated on Arlen. He was calm and focused.

  Blackness edged his vision which had begun to blur. His feet flailed, wildly kicking out at his attacker and never making contact. He found Angela, his gaze locked on to her and refused to leave. This was it. It was the end for him and he could find no better way to go than to do so with the peace of his love’s sweet face looking back at him. Even sobbing, she was beautiful. The darkness crept further towards the center of his sight until Angela was the only thing he could see.

  Her delicate features began to blur out of focus, his body still jerking wildly as it tried to fight for survival. He’d failed her. He’d vowed to keep her safe and take care of her the way she deserved. His time was up and he was leaving her to Lorik. He’d damned her the first time he’d seen her. He should’ve known he couldn’t stay away. It would’ve been like trying to cut his own heart out.

  Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. He wished he could’ve gotten the chance to say goodbye and to tell her just how sorry he was for everything. He’d tell her that he loved her and wished they’d gotten the chance to have the future she’d talked about always wanting.

  Pain radiated from the back of his head and his lungs burned with each breath he tried to take but was unable. He wasn’t sure how long he hung there in the air staring at her. It felt like minutes, though he knew it wouldn’t have been more than seconds. He thought about his parents and his sister. Was there an afterlife where he would he meet them again? Or was it all bullshit? He decided he’d wait for the day it was Angela’s time. He didn’t think he’d have to wait long, but they’d go together.

  With that, he slipped into blackness.

  Chapter 21

  Angie

  “Do something!” Angie screamed at Brokk.

  He had been Arlen’s friend once. She’d told him the truth about everything and she couldn’t understand for the life of her why he was standing around not doing a damn thing to help Arlen.

  Brokk looked conflicted as though he genuinely thought Lorik would drop him. Arlen let his eyes speak for him. He was saying goodbye. Angie doubled over in agony.

  Her felt as though her heart was being torn from her chest and crushed before her very eyes and the effects of their mate bond was already beginning to take hold.

  Arlen hung limply in the air while Lorik watched him intently. He was the devil incarnate as far as Angie was concerned. She struggled to her feet. She’d make him pay for everything he’d done. Her mate hadn’t been able to avenge his family, but she would see to it that his will was done.

  Lorik released his hold on Arlen, who crumpled to the marble floor. The King approached him slowly. Arlen’s chest quivered slightly, as his body tried to save itself. Lorik knelt and scooped up the dagger Arlen had discarded in favor of a fair fight. He strode towards her mate with sure steps.

  “No!” Angie wheezed, climbing to a mostly standing position.

  She was fully prepared to throw herself in front of the blade. Lorik paid her no attention. He slid the dagger under Arlen’s shirt and dragged it down the fabric, baring Arlen’s chest. Lorik fanned his hand over Arlen’s left side.

  With slow measured hands, he began to slice through skin. His intent was clear, he was going to cut Arlen’s heart out.

  Angie took one step and then another, pushing herself through the intense torment. Her insides felt as though they’d gone for a ride in a food processor. Angie reached Lorik and latched his sleeve with a desperate strong grip. She tore him away from Arlen’s still unconscious form. His chest was no longer moving as much as it had been before. He was almost out of time.

  Lorik flung Angela off him as if she weighed nothing. He had made it clear he had secrets. There was no telling just how many more he was hiding. The King adjusted his jacket, brushed himself off, and turned his sights on his new threat.

  Angie scrambled backwards, trying to escape. He followed, hot on her heels. Lorik had that same cold, heartless sheen to his eyes as Drake had. There was no mistaking his desire to kill her.

  Strong fingers curled into her hair and pulled her back towards him. She clawed at the smooth floor trying to pry herself away from the King. He tore strands out by the roots as he tugged on her. With a jerk, he flipped her onto her back. Tears streamed down her face. She was terrified and devastated all at once.

  Light glinted off the shiny dagger’s blade as he raised it enough to get some force behind it. Angela heard a cough and spied Brokk standing over Arlen’s battered form. She saw the blade coming down towards her heart and jerked to the side. It wasn’t enough to miss entirely. The dagger buried deeply into her shoulder and protruded from her back to the stone floor.

  The pain was excruciating and the burning seemed to grow with each beat of her heart. She felt faint when she saw the length of the blade sunken into her. Angie knew it would have to come out, but she tried not to think of it. Lorik had missed his target and she wouldn’t give him a second chance. He adjusted his grip on the handle of the dagger and braced his free hand against her chest. She couldn’t focus on much. Her body reacted for her. Angie writhed against him screaming in agony with each tiny movement. It felt like someone was inflating a balloon in her shoulder with the pressure growing. Each subtle movement of Lorik’s hand as he fought for control, made it worse. She felt the fabric of her shirt dampening and she was afraid of what would happen if she passed out.

  With a rough lurch, he tore it from her like Arthur withdrawing Excalibur. Angie couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t do anything. The pain of everything overwhelmed her and she could do no more than exist. Breath in and exhale, very shakily, and wait to die, that’s all she was doing anymore. Lorik refocused his attention and set the blade against her neck.

  “Please,” Angie whimpered, not ready for her end.

  She was not above begging for her life.

  “You should have chosen better company to keep, Seer.”

  Before Lorik could pull it across her arteries, Brokk, stepped in.

  With a quick flash of steel, Lorik’s head was removed from his body. He slumped forward and landed across her. Hot blood soaked her shirt as she struggled to get herself out from under him.

  Her head was growing lighter with each heartbeat and she turned it weakly to the side to see Lorik’s severed head had rolled a few feet away. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, not wanting to see the haunting look.

  Brokk had done all he could to help Arlen, who seemed to be coming back around. Although, he hadn’t noticed her yet. Her body was numb with shock. Her mind repeatedly kept telling her it was
over. Angela tried to tell herself it wasn’t that bad, but the cold, tingling in her toes disagreed. She could feel the bone had been broken, she couldn’t force a twitch in the limb if her life depended on it.

  Arlen crawled over to her lamely. His eyes were full of fear and worry as he took in the extent of her damage. She couldn’t focus on much more than the searing agony radiating out from her wound.

  The guard who had come through for them in the end, stood nearby with his head bowed respectfully. Arlen placed his hand on her shoulder, directly above her wound.

  “Everything is going to be okay, a’maelamin.”

  Her love’s whispered voice put her mind at ease. She was safe.

  Angie’s shoulder burned under Arlen’s touch. Her nerve endings firing with spasms at the increasing pressure he used on it. The burning grew until she was sure her skin was actually charred and she didn’t think she could take anymore. Screams tore from her throat in guttural cries. The throbbing in her shoulder slowly faded to a dull ache.

  “What are you doing? Why is the pain going away? Is this it? Am I dying?” She panicked. Everything had seemed like it was conspiring to kill her. The pain had been so intense and suddenly unbelievably tolerable. It wasn’t natural. She’d hear dying people had moments of peace and tranquility just before.

  “No, a’maelamin. You’re healing. You’ll scar, but there shouldn’t be any permanent damage to the joint or arm.” His projected thoughts were methodical. There was so much she still didn’t know about the man who had become her soul mate and she’d never been so excited to be able to find out.

  He helped her up to a sitting position. His hands were careful, avoiding quick, jarring movements. Several more guards filed into the throne room and took in the scene before them. Lorik was dead. Arlen, the Fugitive Prince who’d killed his father had finally returned home. He hadn’t killed his brother in the end, but it wouldn’t be unreasonable for the knights and councilmen to assume such a thing.