by Mina Carter
He grimaced. No. This is what happened last time. I can't get free unless I fully engage the beast.
Fear began to hammer at her. No, she said. This isn't like before. You're centuries stronger than you were back then. It's not the same. They don't know how powerful you are. She met his gaze. I do.
Ryland stared at her hungrily, and fierce, dark determination began to flow through him. You are insane, woman.
She shrugged. As long as I'm right, I'm okay with that. You can get out, Ryland. There is a way—
"My dear, sweet, Catherine. How lovely of you to come by."
The voice knifed fear right into her heart. She whirled around, shock numbing her as her former husband, the father of her child, walked into the room from a hidden door at the back. He was far taller than she remembered, almost seven feet. His shoulders were huge, barely covered by the black satin shirt open to his navel. Tight leather pants were caked on his legs, a thick gold chain glittered around his neck, and huge jeweled rings clung to every long finger. Gone was the lean, unsophisticated man who wore jeans and T-shirts, who chopped wood for his family. "Simon?" she gasped.
Simon? Ryland's voice was equally shocked. That's Simon?
Fury exploded through her. "You bastard!" She summoned all her death energy, sucking it into her body, amassing it with violent intensity "Where is my daughter?" Her voice was low and haunting, a dangerous, lethal threat that she didn't try to contain, for the first time in her life. She opened herself to it, inviting every last bit of darkness inside her to the surface.
He laughed at her.
Laughed? He laughed? She threw out her hands and charged him, thrusting all her death energy into her palms. All she had to do was touch him and he—
No! Ryland shouted. Don't—
Simon raised his palm. Silver light shot out of his hand, slammed into her chest and threw her backwards. She screamed as agony consumed her, as her body writhed in pain. She crashed into a stone, and she gasped as it slammed into her back, knocking the breath out of her. What had he done? Where had he gotten that power?
Catherine! Ryland shouted into her mind. Get up! Get up!
Driven by the urgency in his voice, Catherine dragged herself to her feet just as the ground where she'd been lying turned black and began to sizzle. She stumbled away from it, not even wanting to imagine what would have happened if she had still been lying there. What's going on?
Ryland cursed. He's the Dark Lord. Desdria's mate.
Catherine spun toward Ryland. What? Simon is the Dark Lord? Dear God. That was impossible.
Get out of here. Just run. You can't save Lucy now. Not from him.
Screw that. Enraged, Catherine whirled to face Simon, the man who had once made her believe in love. "Give me back my daughter," she snapped. "Or I will bring you all down."
Simon smiled, a slithering, disgusting smile that made her stomach turn. "No, my dear Catherine, you don't understand. I'm not finished with what I need from you yet." He nodded at Ryland. "There are still more warriors who need to die, starting with him."
She drew her shoulders back. "Never." She knew he couldn't make her kill Ryland. She loved him, and nothing could break that. Ryland had given her hope and light, and that was enough. She opened her heart to her love for him and for Lucy, thrusting it out into the world as protection for herself and the two people who mattered to her.
"No?" Simon laughed again. "Then there's something that you need to see." He held out his hand to Desdria, who handed him a glass canister with a stopper. "You should have this."
She didn't take it. "Give me back my daughter."
He held it up. "If you want Lucy, you need to look at this."
Don't touch it, Ryland warned, but Catherine was already reaching for it.
He said it had to do with Lucy. I have to see.
Simon brushed his fingers across her palm as she took the bottle from him, and she shuddered. Ryland let out a low growl, and she felt his pain as he struggled against his bonds. He was growing in anger and frustration, but still keeping his energy contained and his strength targeted as he worked against his bonds. Come on, Ryland, she said. You can do it. I need you. Dante needs you. Lucy needs you. Free yourself.
You're so damned bossy.
I'm a mom. We're all bossy. Get on it.
"Open it," Simon commanded, gesturing to the glass bottle she held.
Don't, Ryland warned her.
I have to. Catherine gripped the cork and yanked it while Simon watched her with an expectant gleam in his eye. She bent her head to smell the content, but there was no odor. "I don't smell any—" Suddenly, her mind was filled with her daughter's energy. The beautiful innocence of the young spirit, the suffering, the loneliness...her soul... Catherine went numb with horror. "Lucy's soul was in here." Oh dear God. No. Her soul had been in the bottle before Catherine had opened it. There was only one thing that would have allowed that to happen. Lucy was dead. Dead. Dead.
Stunned, she dropped the bottle, and the glass shattered all over the floor. Her legs gave out and she fell, her knees crashing onto the floor. "Lucy," she gasped. "Lucy. Lucy!" She screamed for her daughter, for the loss, for the child she hadn't been able to protect. The sobs tore from her throat, ripping apart her soul, screams that wouldn't stop. Screams that would never, ever, ever stop.
Chapter Sixteen
CATHERINE'S DEVASTATION TORE through Ryland as if his own heart had been slashed and ripped from his body. Her grief brought him to his knees, and his soul screamed for her pain. He lunged to the end of his chains, trying to reach her, but his hands were stopped several feet away from her by his restraints. Catherine! Come to me! He had to touch her. Hold her. Comfort her.
She collapsed to the ground, holding her stomach as the grief poured out of her, moans of agony so chilling it made his chest hurt. The darkness flowed out of her, a thick, tainted mass of death eating through the air. She wasn't holding it in anymore. She wasn't even trying. She was lost, completely inundated by the grief of losing her daughter.
He knew what that was like. He knew it because he'd been through the exact same thing the day that he'd held Marie in his arms as she died, knowing that he hadn't been able to save her. He couldn't let Catherine go through that. He had to help her. Had to execute some miracle that would spare her that hell.
"Catherine!" He shouted for her, his voice raw with emotion as he strained against the chains. Blood ran down his wrists as the cuffs dug into his flesh. His chest burned from lack of oxygen as the neck collar crushed his throat. But still he fought, channeling all his energy into her, into the angel who had come to him, into the suffering consuming her.
Her knees were bloody from where she'd fallen on the broken glass that had cut through her jeans, and her hands were bleeding as well. Her hair hung in tangled mats, and she was bowed over, her body shaking violently. Her mind was a confused miasma of grief, guilt, and loss. Of isolation so intense it was as if her soul had been stripped into a thousand fragments and sunk into a pool of suffering. She was lost to him, unable to hear him or feel his presence. She was spiraling away from him, from herself, from life.
Jesus. He had to get to her. He had to help her. He had to—
A white light flashed from Simon's palm and hit Catherine in the sternum. "No! Fuck! No!" Ryland roared with anguish as Catherine screamed and fell backward, holding her chest.
"She's going to die," Simon taunted. "Unless you save her." He shot another bolt of light at Catherine. Her body jerked as it hit her, and another scream tore from her throat.
"Catherine!" Ryland bucked violently in his restraints. Fight back, Cat! I know you can! He thrust his own healing energy at her, trying to offer her his strength and immortality, but she didn't accept it. Her mind was shut down, unable to connect with his.
Panic began to build inside Ryland, and he tried harder, driving all his energy toward her. How many times had she told him how impossible it was to kill her? He knew she could survive this. She ha
d to survive it. She was death herself, the very essence of what Simon was attempting to do to her.
Ryland knew he could help her get through it. He had to help her get through it. Take my strength, Cat. Come on—
Simon hit her with another blast, and this time, she didn't react. Her body jerked, but no scream came from her mouth. She just lay on the floor, smoke rising from her burned skin.
"Jesus! Cat!" Fighting for sanity, for strategic thought, Ryland jumped backward to give himself slack, then he called out his machetes and hurled them at Simon in a lightning-fast one-two strike.
Simon didn't even bother to look at him. He just held up his hand. White light shot out of his palm and slammed into the blades. They ricocheted off to the side, spinning completely out of control. Ryland tried to call them back, but they were still hurtling violently away from him, his connection to them severed by whatever Simon had done. Shit!
The Dark Lord finally looked at him. "There is only one thing that will work down here, Balthazar. You know what it is."
Ryland's lip curled in a sneer. "You will not get me again, you bastard. I'll save her without going over the edge. Never, ever, again."
"Enough of this." Desdria strode across the floor, her body lithe and strong, like a cat stalking its prey.
Ryland's adrenaline surged even further, and he tried to call his machetes back again. They were lying on the floor against the far wall. Again, they didn't respond. He tried to reach out to Catherine. Come on, Cat. Take my energy. Call my weapons. He didn't even hesitate with his next command. Call Thano's.
There was no response. She just lay on the ground, motionless. Jesus.
"I'm tired of this!" Desdria said. "Things need to be done. The queen is growing impatient."
Ryland narrowed his eyes. "Queen? What queen?" Even as he asked the question, he continued to thrust healing energy into Catherine, his mind still racing as he searched for a solution, for a different ending than the one that happened before.
Desdria didn't answer. Instead, she walked over to Catherine, grabbed her shoulder, and rolled her onto her back.
Ryland went cold when he saw the ash-gray color of Cat's skin, the paleness of her lips. She looked like death, real death. Cat. I'll get you out of this. I promise. But there was no response, just an echoing hopelessness and an acceptance of death. She'd lost her will to fight now that her daughter was dead? No, Cat! No! I still need you. The Order needs you! Dante needs you! There's so much for you here! Don't give up!
Desdria palmed her hand beneath Catherine's shoulder blades, lifting her so that Catherine's head lolled back in a defenseless posture. Then she raised her free hand high to the ceiling in supplication and began to murmur words under her breath.
Panic and terror surged through Ryland as she began to repeat the same process that she'd used to kill Marie so many centuries ago. "No!" The roar exploded from the depths of his being, and he lunged forward with every last bit of strength. He reached the end of his restraints, and there was a brutal cacophony of cracks as the bones in his wrists, ankles, and neck shattered under the force of his lunge. He bellowed with agony as he collapsed to the floor, completely useless, the shackles still locked around him. His eyes rolling in pain, he managed to elbow himself to his stomach, his head hanging uselessly as numbness began to spread through his body. His limbs went still, frozen, paralyzed.
He collapsed, his breath shuddering in wheezy rasps as Desdria continued to chant. As she spoke, her fingers lengthened into barbed claws with razor sharp blades at the end. He tried to move, but there was nothing left. His weapons lay inert on the floor. They would disappear within a few seconds if he didn't call them back first. Catherine! He fought to keep his focus, to awaken her. Use your death touch. Kill her now.
But there was no response. Nothing.
Simon squatted beside Ryland. "So, looks like you have three choices, Balthazar. Hold onto your independence and let this lovely woman have her heart clawed out by Desdria, so that she not only dies, but is held here in tortured suspension for all eternity. Or, you can surrender to your bad side, break the bonds as if they were made of silk and save the girl. Or, you can do the same thing you did before and play the hero just a little too late, so that you lose everything. So many good choices. What will you choose today? Repeat the past, or try something a little different?"
Ryland rolled his eyes so he could look into Simon's smug visage. "Fuck. You."
Simon grinned. "No, it's more like, you're fucked, and so is the girl." He stood up. "Kill her, my dear. Do it now." Then he grabbed Ryland's head and twisted it violently around to face Desdria and Catherine.
His body convulsing from the agony of the movement, Ryland had a split second to register Desdria's claws descending toward Catherine's chest, just like before. At the sight, something broke inside him. Desperation, fear, and rage exploded through him, so intense he screamed as it shattered the protections around his mind. He didn't even hesitate. Not even for a split second. He just focused on Catherine and commanded the beast to come.
It erupted through him with a thousand times the magnitude he'd ever experienced before. His bones shattered under the force of his change and reformed as the beast became him. His neck jutted forward, his teeth became fangs, his eyes blood-red beacons in his horned and scaled head, his twenty-foot spiked tail decimating the massive front doors that had locked him in, crushing them with one violent swipe.
"Do it!" Simon shouted, and Desdria shoved the claws into Cat's chest—
With a roar that shook the very earth, Ryland exploded forward. The chains shattered, and Ryland leapt across the room. He raked his claws across Desdria and hurled her into the wall. He whirled around, driving his spiked tail into Simon's chest as he scooped up Catherine's limp body in his massive jaws. He spun around and galloped for the door, unfurling his massive wings as he ran—
"Balthazar, stop." Desdria's voice rang through the air.
Ryland slammed up his mental shields as his muscles started to slow down and obey the command. Clenching Catherine so carefully in his jaws, he kept going, shoving himself forward as if he were slogging through air so thick it was like a swamp.
"Balthazar, I said stop."
The command rippled through his mind, and frustration coursed through him as his wings folded up, and his legs stopped running. No! He forced another step. And one more. Toward the door. He had to get out. Had to escape. Had to—
"Drop her!" Simon shouted.
Ryland's mouth opened, and Catherine tumbled from his grasp onto the stone floor. Helplessness flooded him as he stared down at her on the ground. Every instinct screamed at him to gather her to him and fly her to safety, but he couldn't move. All he could do was stare at her. His body did not belong to him, just like before.
Then he remembered Catherine's words, that it didn't have to be like before. That there was a way out. That he was different than he had once been. Come on! Outrage roared through him, and he fought to pick her up, but instead, he went into a crouch, his tail flicking as Simon walked up, holding his hand to the hole Ryland had put in his chest.
He walked right up until his face was pressed up against Ryland's massive snout. "Piece of shit," Simon snarled. "You think because you got a few extra steps before obeying that it's different this time? Never." He raised his palm and smacked Ryland on the side of his head.
A flash of white light blinded Ryland, and pain shot through him, dropping him to his belly with a guttural groan. He landed beside Catherine, his nose pressed up against her hip. Blood was streaming from a wound in her chest, but Desdria hadn't taken her heart yet. Relief rushed through him, and he tried to nudge her with his nose...but couldn't move. Catherine. Wake up. He pushed at her mind, and he thought he caught a faint pulse of energy. Catherine! I—
"Look at me." Desdria strode up, limping slightly from his attack, but perfectly sound.
He fought it. He fought obedience with every fucking ounce of strength he had, but it didn't
matter. Ryland felt his soul wail in dismay as he obeyed her command, swinging his head around to face her.
Desdria reached up to his neck and grabbed his collar. She yanked on it, the action sending shocks shooting violently through his body. "Never, ever, deny us again," she snarled. "You are ours, Balthazar. You are nothing but a slave, and you will never be anything more."
Bile spilled through him, a dark, seething violence to destroy her...but he didn't move. Couldn't move. Catherine was wrong. It wasn't different this time. Not different at all. But even as he had the thought, he reached out to her with his mind. They could control his body, but not his thoughts. Catherine. Help me. I need your help. She was his angel, the angel of death that the oracle had predicted, the Order's guardian angel. This was why she'd been brought into his life: for this moment, for this event, to salvage him from hell so he could finish his job and save Dante and the Order. Catherine!
But she didn't respond.
Fear began to hammer through Ryland. Why couldn't he connect with her? She couldn't be dying, could she? Catherine!
Simon walked over and slid his arms beneath her. Outrage roared through Ryland as he watched the bastard touch her, easing his palms over her skin before picking her up. Vile disgust spewed through Ryland, and he raised his lips in a deathly snarl.
"Silence," Desdria snapped.
The growl cut off instantly, and helpless frustration roared through Ryland as he watched Simon carry her toward the door, away from him. His woman was in the arms of the man who had used her and betrayed her, and then killed her daughter. Ryland's soul unleashed a battle cry, and he lunged for Simon.
Simon's eyes widened in surprise, then he shouted at Ryland. "Down!"
Ryland dropped to his belly like a fucking lap dog. His heart was racing, his body shaking with the need to attack him, but he was paralyzed, stuck to the floor, unable to do anything but watch as the Dark Lord descended the temple steps and disappeared into the darkness, heading toward his lair with Catherine.
Desdria stepped in front of Ryland, blocking his view of his woman. She crouched in front of him, running her hand over his nose. "Tonight, you will service me, Balthazar. You will show me the man you have become."