Dreams of a Dark Warrior

by Kresley Cole

  "I thought the island was going to disappear," Brandr said.

  Declan glanced at his watch. The self-destruct was now nine minutes overdue. "It was supposed to have." He surveyed the landscape below. Not a single detonation. Something must have jammed them.

  For better or ill, he suspected there'd be no blasts tonight.

  "What's that?" Brandr pointed ahead.

  Declan faced forward. Squinting, he wiped the windshield with his sleeve. A cloud of dark shapes hovered in their path. He slowed his speed, descending to avoid them, but they dropped down as well.

  The answer hit him just as Brandr said, "Winged demons."

  Dozens of them. They attacked in a swarm, their claws shredded down the sides of the fuselage, across the wings.

  Declan shoved down the yoke in a sudden dive, trying to shake them free. The stall alarm on engine one blared.

  Brandr clamped the dash as the plane plummeted. "What do they want?"

  Natalya said, "My guess is the magister's head on a platter!"

  Engine one rumbled, smoked, then died. The starboard wing was trashed, the other barely holding on. Engine two roared, straining to keep the plane at altitude.

  The yoke vibrated wildly as Declan fought to maneuver back toward the runway. "We're goin' down." Though trees grew at one end of the runway, a sheer rock face capped the other.

  Have to slow our speed. There was nothing else to be done, no steering a plane this disabled.

  Brandr gazed at him, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. Because a mortal probably wouldn't make it.

  And no man could die with more regrets than Declan. He would never have the chance to make things right with Regin. Would never kiss her or claim her. Too ashamed of his scars to ever reveal them. Too cowardly to risk her rejection.

  Should've taken the chance, Dekko. He almost wanted to believe he'd come back in another life.

  Over the screaming engine, Brandr yelled, "I'm sorry, Blademan. Looks like you're about to check out. Again."

  Declan yelled back, "Just get her off this island!" If she survived the crash. He glanced back at her. She was battered, appearing so delicate, not the larger-than-life Valkyrie he was used to. How much more could her body take? "Do it within six days!" Before the Order struck the final blow to this island.

  "I almost believe you give a shit about her!"

  "Protect her, berserker," Declan said. "Vow it!"

  "I already have." With that, Brandr climbed out of the cockpit into the very back to sit beside Regin, gathering her body up in his arms, clasping her close. To Natalya, he said, "Come, female, I can buffer you too."

  The fey climbed back, then reached for Thad, pulling him close as well.

  "Natalya?" The boy's voice broke.

  "You'll be fine, my lad," she assured him, but her face was drawn with fear. "If I had a pound for every plane crash I've been in ..."

  As the ground rushed closer, Declan's heart began pumping blood, thundering in his ears.

  But he still heard Brandr murmur, "Till we meet again, Aidan."

  THIRTY-SIX

  Lothaire stood in the pouring rain watching as the plane came screaming back toward the runway.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd ordered the winged Volar demons to bring it to the ground gently. This touchdown would prove anything but.

  If Chase died, all his knowledge of the ring would expire with him. Lothaire had ransacked his office, but couldn't find it--

  The craft landed belly first on the last quarter of the track, the initial impact ripping the fuselage in half, severing the tail from the rest of the plane. The cockpit half didn't slow, barreling toward a wall of rock.

  One wing and its engine separated, exploding into a ball of fire that rocked the night. The blast pitched the cockpit and remaining wing end over end until it crashed into the side of the cliff.

  Lothaire hurried toward it. If Chase lived, Lothaire could drink him, harvesting all of the magister's memories.

  At the thought, his fangs dripped in his mouth. Such hunger ... He'd have to take care not to drain the man down.

  When he approached the mangled cockpit, the scent of aviation fuel swept over him; the remaining engine sparked and flamed in the hissing rain.

  Just a matter of time before it too exploded.

  He found that Chase lived. Barely. Blood streamed down his face from a gash at his temple, whetting Lothaire's appetite even more. The plane's frame had collapsed around his lower body, metal indentations trapping his legs inside.

  As Lothaire impassively watched, Chase gripped his legs behind the knees and yanked, but he was pinned tight--

  Those winged demons descended all around the crash site like vultures.

  Some of demonkind, such as these from the Volar demonarchy, believed Lothaire was the devil himself, born to lead all demons back to hell. Naturally, he'd fostered this rumor. Now Lothaire bared his fangs. "I said gently."

  One muttered, "He unexpectedly made the craft dive."

  "Be--gone." With fear in their eyes, they took off at once, great black wings swooping, fanning the flames.

  Lothaire dropped to his knee beside Chase. "Where's my ring?"

  "Fuck off, leech!" He brandished his sword from a sheath at his side.

  Before Chase could strike, Lothaire fisted his wrist, wresting the sword free. "I recognize this blade. You stabbed me with it, twisting it inside me." Lothaire pulled the scabbard free, then donned his new sword. "For sentimental value. Something to remember you by."

  Next he seized the magister's hand. "And now to be rid of this collar." Though the man resisted, Lothaire tore off his glove.

  More scars? Raised marks covered the back of Chase's hand.

  With a shrug, Lothaire flattened the pad of the man's thumb against the torque's lock. "Once I'm free, we're going to find out exactly how much pain you can endure while remaining conscious. I won't stop until you tell me where my ring is." He leaned in to say at his ear, "I'll be sure to make you feel your loss."

  Chase sneered, "My print won't work."

  Lothaire pressed his thumb on the pad again. "You lie." He snatched off Chase's remaining glove to test his other print. Nothing.

  "If you want your torque removed, go find Fegley. Tell him I sent you."

  "Didn't you hear? The warden is dead. Emberine burned the man alive." After his hand had been removed to use as a key. But the suka wouldn't bargain for it, had threatened to incinerate it if Lothaire neared her.

  So I'm still trapped. "Then you remain of use to me, Chase. You know of another way off this island."

  "Of course I do."

  "You will share it. But must I dismember you first?" Once Lothaire drank Chase, he'd garner knowledge of any potential escape to be had. But those stolen memories were difficult to access at will, no matter how hard he'd trained to do just that.

  Most of the time the memories came in the form of dreams. How much sleeping will I be doing until I escape? Until I seize her?

  The magister's body twisted as the flames began to lick closer to his legs. As if he could see his female, Chase stretched one arm out, reaching in her direction. His eyes glowed with fear--but clearly not for himself.

  He would be particularly keen to bargain. "I do hope your female's faring better than you. If she survived the crash, she could be at the mercy of those winged demons. Lusty devils. They won't kill her; they'll keep her as a concubine. For centuries. They'll breed on her as well, of course."

  Chase yelled, thrashing against the metal.

  "You want to get to her more than anything," Lothaire murmured. "You want it so badly, you're dumbfounded that you can't get free."

  Another violent thrash.

  "Now you understand what it's like to be kept from your female when she is in danger. To have some enemy gloating, while you are trapped and powerless, unable to defend her. But what if I pulled you free and you were able to go to her?"

  "Do it! Free me!"

  "You'd have to
cede things in return. You stole my property, jailed me for weeks, starved and tortured me. So many debts to pay. The scales between us tip so heavily against you, I probably should just kill you."

  "You want to deal? Then do it!"

  "My ring. I must have it."

  "It was taken off the island tonight. I don't know where."

  "Blyad'! Then what else do you have? What will clear the slate between us?"

  "The Order will strike this installation within six days," Chase grated. "But there's a boat a few days from here. I vow to lead you to it, if you free me now."

  A few days? Cutting it so close.

  Lothaire would require blood in the interim. Normally he fed only every week or so, but he was still regenerating. And he'd need all the power he could steal to compensate for this torque.

  "I'll allow this to cancel out my stolen property and to pay for jailing me for weeks. You will be my guide--and my prisoner." He examined his black claws. "Next?"

  "What?"

  "To pay for starving and torturing me. What could possibly be recompense for that?"

  Chase's eyes darted. "I don't ... know. Damn it, pull me free so I can think!"

  "I can't stand to see all this good blood going to waste, seared to nothing."

  The magister's face paled even more. "The fuck you'll be drinkin' me!"

  "When you tortured me, I told you I'd make you pay in ways you couldn't imagine."

  As ever, I was right. Lothaire almost sighed. The world is so tediously predictable. Speaking over Chase's furious railings, Lothaire said, "Until we escape, I want you to yield your blood to me."

  Submitting to my bite. Nothing would humiliate a man like Chase more, nothing could bring him so low. Though Lothaire was calculating--choosing to serve the Endgame, rather than his emotions--he was a vindictive son of a bitch.

  ***

  "Never." The scent of flames and volatile aviation fuel oozed over Declan. "Just free me!" The nearing fire, the frustration. He was going to burn to death without reaching Regin. And if he died, who would get her off this island before the Order retaliated?

  The vampire said, "Someone will pay for the damage you did. Perhaps your woman? Yes, I should go pierce her bright flesh. If she lives yet."

  "Don't you fuckin' dare."

  "Poor Regin. She could be bleeding out, or about to burn like you. Ah, she looked so weak, too. She could actually perish." He tsked. "A legendary being like that, her life force extinguished forever. Because you wouldn't surrender mere drops of your blood. And possibly a memory or two."

  "No, no!"

  Lothaire rose. "Her blood will be sublime."

  "Don't touch her!" Touch what's mine, and I'll punish you.

  Lothaire knelt once more. "I want all the blood I can drink from you, Magister. Whenever and however I choose to drink it until we leave this island."

  However? Declan didn't understand, couldn't think. The metal frame of the plane was heating all around him, searing his skin. He would give his life to save hers, but surrendering his blood to a detrus ... ?

  To have another one of these creatures feeding from his body?

  "Never mind. I'll return with her head, so the two of you can fry together." Lothaire turned once more.

  "I vow it." Declan bit back a yell as pain racked him. "Now free me!"

  "Very well." After several tries, the vampire hauled him loose in a rush. As Declan labored just to rise up on his battered knees, Lothaire snatched free two seat belts, using them to tie Declan's hands behind his back.

  "What the hell is this, vampire?"

  Lothaire shoved one hand against the side of his face and clamped the other over his shoulder.

  "No! What the fuck are you doing?"

  "Exacting, no, accepting a payment from you. I promised you that you'd know when I wanted to drink you. Because my fangs would be shoved deep in your neck." The vampire dipped down, murmuring, "They're about to be. And with your invitation."

  Declan flailed, roaring with fury. Another detrus feeding on me! Another one touching my skin!

  "It can be quite enjoyable if you relax."

  But no matter how hard Declan struggled, he couldn't get free. He felt the vampire's breath against his neck right before the bastard pierced him. There wasn't the pain he'd expected, just a disgusting fullness.

  The rage, the unspeakable humiliation . . .

  Lothaire drew deep, his tongue working as he lapped and sucked. When the vampire groaned, Declan shuddered with revulsion, dizziness washing over him with each greedy pull from his neck.

  Finally the vampire released him with another groan, sitting back on his haunches. "Your blood is steeped in power." Running his tongue over a fang, he said, "Among other things. I believe I might be high. But I like it."

  "You wanted my memories, leech? They're all yours." All the torture, misery, hate. Declan gave a crazed laugh. "You'll fuckin' choke on them!"

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  The magister's blood was delicious and drugged. Yet what a bitter aftertaste!

  No matter. Lothaire couldn't remember the last time he'd tasted blood so powerful. His skin began regenerating in a rush, strength filling him.

  Out of his countless victims only a handful had ever fueled him as Chase had.

  Berserkers. Those rare creatures. Who knew?

  If he could have blood like this and lose the torque ...

  "You filthy parasite--I will kill you for this!" Chase's muscles began to swell, his eyes glowing, but he'd probably burned through his berserkrage surviving that plane crash.

  "Admit it, Magister, you liked it a little." Lothaire hauled him to his feet.

  "One day I'll cut off your fuckin' head."

  "Words hurt, Chase."

  The man opened his mouth to say more, then gritted his teeth. "This isn't finished." Through the pouring rain, he lumbered in the Valkyrie's direction, following the swath of the plane's landing.

  Lothaire trailed him, keeping a keen eye on his new investment and blood supply. When they reached the other half of the plane, the berserker, the fey, and Thaddeus had just crawled from the wreckage.

  The fey's cheek was gouged open. Thaddeus appeared unscathed, sounding out some primitive Texan-esque whoop, then yelling to the sky, "We freaking lived!"

  Brandr had an unconscious Regin cradled in his arms. One of his eyes was swollen shut and blood trickled from his nose. But Regin looked no worse than before the crash.

  When Chase sagged in relief, Lothaire yanked him upright.

  The man's scarred hands clenched and unclenched behind him as he so clearly longed to have her in his possession.

  Lothaire drawled at his ear, "You want her so badly? Perhaps you oughtn't have had your lackeys mutilate her. Just a thought."

  Natalya reached for her charge thrower. "What is the leech doing here? Again?" But her weapon had been damaged.

  "Chase is my prisoner, and the Valkyrie goes with us."

  Brandr nodded slowly. "You are as crazy as they say."

  To keep his bargain with Chase, Lothaire would have to defeat these three and take the Valkyrie.

  Or I can use them. Lothaire assessed them one by one. A ragtag army.

  The fey had skills, the berserker would be an extra sword. Thaddeus's hidden strength could come in handy. Currently, the lad was dragging an overstuffed backpack out of the tail of the plane. Seemed he was smart enough to provision himself.

  "Chase is leading me off the island," Lothaire said. "He knows of an alternate means of escape. We could include you. For a price."

  Natalya rolled her eyes. "What now?"

  "Allegiance to me, until we depart this place. You'd vow no malice against me."

  Brandr shook his head. "That thing, that La Dorada, will be coming for you. Unless you killed her?"

  "She's out of commission for a time." The sorceress had been rash, coming for him before she'd regenerated enough. He'd capitalized.

  Natalya pressed her fingers to the wound on
her cheek. "Do we have a choice but to side with you?"

  "Not unless you want to stay here. And Chase informed me that the Order will be retaliating soon. Unite with us, or die."

  "Then let's allegiate or whatever!" Thaddeus said. "I want out of this place! You've got my vow."

  Natalya gritted out, "Mine as well."

  Brandr scowled. "I vow it."

  Lothaire tensed as a new scent wafted in the air. A foul scent. Through the rain, he spied glowing eyes in the woods. "Wendigos. On three sides."

  When Declan spotted the creatures skulking closer, his instincts screamed for him to get Regin away. There were three times as many as before.

  "Only one place to run." Natalya turned her gaze toward the dark forest just beyond them.

  "No, we can't outrun them with these torques." Brandr swiped at his bleeding nose. "And we'd be going directly into their most advantageous terrain. We need to stand and fight."

  Natalya scoffed. "All of us barely defeated a fraction of their number."

  "If we run, you know what will happen! They'll infect us. I'd rather die--in a fight!"

  "You could run, and I could stay to fend them off," the vampire offered. "For some reason, I feel amazingly refreshed." He swung an amused look at Declan that made him grind his teeth. "And it seems I'm quite handy against them." He fingered something in his pocket.

  Natalya tossed away her busted TEP-C. "So, Lothaire, you're going to fight them out of the blackness of your heart?"

  Lothaire said to Declan, "Mortals always have a rabbit hole. There's a secure shelter somewhere on this island, isn't there? Somewhere you'd all be safe this night?"

  Beginning to recognize Lothaire's calculating look, Declan gave a tight nod, not bothering to hide the scathing hatred boiling inside him. "And what would it take for you to fight the Wendigos?" What more would he want?

  "Whenever I ask for something in the future, you will do it for me. Anything. Without hesitation. Vow this."

  Another deal with the devil?

  "Make no bargains with vampires," the fey murmured. "You always lose in the end."

  Too late.

  Brandr shook his head. "You can't agree to an open-ended deal like that, especially not with a leech like him."

  "Do I have a bloody choice?"

  "Chase, they're pure evil. I've fought them all my life," Brandr said. "Hell, I've probably fought him!"

  Lothaire calmly said, "An unlikelihood, as you still live."

  Brandr lunged for the vampire, his free hand balled into a fist, but Natalya stepped between them.