by Sable Grace
It took a moment to acclimate herself to the weightlessness, but she managed to make her way less than gracefully to the exit.
“The guard will think you’re sleeping,” Nettles said, her voice a loud whisper. “I’m going to go find Ryker, but meanwhile, watch for the color to fade from the charm. When it’s pewter again, your time is up.”
Kyana tried to speak, but the echo in her head nearly deafened her. She turned and, with a prayer that the barrier wouldn’t work on her spirit form, Kyana stepped through the gate.
Chapter Thirty-one
Kyana gripped the charm-laced beacon in her fist and followed its faint pink glow through the twilight of Below. As Nettles predicted, some passersby glanced at Kyana but quickly looked away. Most of those winding their way through the cobblestone streets seemed not to sense her at all. Frustration fogged her mind. Below was as massive as the world Above. She didn’t have time to search every inch, but Haven couldn’t be far. There hadn’t been time for her and Marcus to leave the patch of Below that fell beneath St. Augustine. But where to begin?
Listen to your heart and follow the glow.
Nettles’s instructions fought through the haze of Kyana’s brain. She concentrated on Haven, filling her mind’s eye with images of her friend’s smiling face. Not questioning the odd sensations prickling her skin, Kyana moved through the streets, past the bathhouse, beyond the portal gate, through alleyways and packed side streets.
She stopped in an older section of the city where open fields and scattered buildings had once made up an old market.
Holding the beacon out before her, Kyana turned in a slow circle, feeling useless and helpless without her working senses. When she faced the largest of the old greenhouses, Haven’s beacon turned a rich blood red. Moving with a speed that rivaled her Vampyric powers, she entered the dilapidated building, her body sifting through the stone walls as easily as mist through hair. The harsh glare of the naked bulb hanging from a beam in the center of the building revealed pieces of furniture covered in dusty sheets. Potting soil and terra-cotta planters littered the floor. Whoever had worked here had long ago vacated the premises.
The beacon’s pulsating glow suggested Haven should be near but Kyana had to be reading it wrong. The greenhouse was silent and void of any hint of people. She turned to leave when a low, pain-filled groan pulled her toward a darkened corner. A figure lay curled in a fetal position, but there was no mistaking the clothing, the hair.
Haven! She was alive.
As she moved closer to Haven, the sight of thick chains wrapped around her wrists and ankles froze Kyana in place. She hadn’t thought this through. Why hadn’t she considered that she might find Haven alive and be useless in helping her escape? How was she going to free Haven when she couldn’t even touch her?
Haven opened her eyes. Yellow, cold, lifeless eyes. Evil lurked in their depths. If Haven wasn’t tamed soon, that side of her would consume all the light, all the good that made her who she’d been in life.
Kyana couldn’t let that happen. She reached for the bonds, but her fingers refused to close around the chains. Haven snarled and lunged, obviously able to see through the charm’s magic. The wildness in her eyes and garbling in her voice told Kyana that she was no longer considered a friend. The minute her blood had slipped over Haven’s lips, that friendship had died. Kyana stiffened her shoulders. She still had a job to do, then she could return to her fate and hope the others were able to help Haven straighten out the mess Kyana had made of her life.
Anger simmered in her belly. She focused on that emotion, the anger, the frustration.
The naked light bulb above her head shattered. Haven snapped her head away, safeguarding it from the bits of glass spraying in their direction. The shards drifted through Kyana, landing noisily on the wooden floor around them.
Excited over the prospect of being able to do something, Kyana focused harder on her anger. The air around her turned frigid; a layer of ice slowly coated the glass along the windows near Haven’s head.
Yes! I am here! I exist!
Footsteps. Then a shadow formed, large and filling the doorway. In the darkness, Kyana couldn’t make out any features. Apparently her keen sight had been left behind with her body, just like everything else. A noise, somewhere between a pop and a whoosh, came from the intruder, then a burst of light illuminated his form. Marcus’s robust form filled the entrance from the hall, his beard dirty and bloody. Good. Haven had given him a fight.
He placed the lit match to a candle, carefully set the candle on a table by the door.
“Break all the lights you like, Haven. I’ll still see you just fine.”
Something shiny flashed in his hand, and Kyana followed it, sucking in her breath at the sight of the dagger he fisted. Zeus, she wished she could rip his throat out. She’d trusted him. Set up Hank and his computer right under his nose. What blind idiots they’d all been.
I’m going to kill you. I’m going to gut you, and rip off your head, and smash your skull with my bare hands.
Her silent threats meant nothing. She’d be dead before she could carry them out. Still she imagined ripping him apart and dancing in his blood, allowing the images to feed her, fill her, until slowly, she began to feel more real.
She was going to feed his dick to his ass.
As Marcus turned away from his third and final candle, Kyana lunged at him. The moment her form hit him, a wave of nausea passed through her just before she came out the other side. Marcus jerked. Shivered. He looked around the room, his eyes wild.
“Who’s there?”
He held his dagger in front of him now, his lips a pale shade of blue.
The sheets covering the tables flew in every direction. Behind her, icy veins cracked the window above the door. A layer of frost bled across the floor at her feet, circling Marcus’s boots. Her anger had become tangible. Real. She could use it if she focused.
Marcus took a step forward, his boot slipping on the thin sheet of ice. “What the—” He caught himself. His glare, filled with hatred and fear, turned toward the corner. “Who’s here, Haven?”
Haven stared at Kyana. For half a second, Kyana saw her friend within the depths. Then Marcus took a step toward Haven and she gave a throaty warning, struggling against her bonds.
Leave her alone! The shout resonated within Kyana’s head. Kyana fisted her hands and swung. Several terra-cotta pots crashed to the floor at Marcus’s feet.
He froze, his nostrils flaring. He closed his eyes and inhaled, then smiled. “Ah, Kyana. I smell yo-o-u,” he taunted. “They executed you a bit sooner than I expected.”
Another planter crashed to the floor, missing Marcus by inches.
“Is that the best you got?” Marcus laughed and took another step toward Haven. “The only ones around to hear the noise work for me, so make all the racket you want.”
She had to buy Haven a little more time. Had to keep Marcus occupied until Nettles could find Geoffrey and Ryker, until they could find the greenhouse. Her fury caused icy crystals to form around Marcus’s boots and spider outward.
He laughed at her weak attempt to stop him. His breath clouded. “You’re wasting your energy. If you had time to perfect being an apparition, and someone to train you, you could really do me harm. You should join our side. Cronos would love having the mighty Kyana working for him, just as he’s going to love Haven. You’ve given him the perfect gift, you know. The perfect weapon. She’s going to be a beauty.”
The perfect weapon? How was Haven a weapon? Energy drained from her as defeat threatened to take hold. Her questions would have to wait. She needed the last bit of her energy to hold Marcus off.
Kyana drifted to the candles. She tried to pinch out the fire, but no heat touched her skin. Damn it!
The flame flickered.
Narrowing her gaze, she concentrated on the flickering light and screamed out her fury over being duped by the likes of an ex-Mystic. The flame danced, then puffed out. She quickly
extinguished the remaining two candles, plunging the large room into total darkness.
“Are you worried about your friend, Kyana?” Marcus asked, rotating in a small circle. “No need. I suppose I should thank you. If you hadn’t turned her, she never would’ve been powerful enough for our purpose. Now she’s far more useful alive than dead.”
Kyana strained to see. She’d existed with her supernatural strengths for so long that she felt disoriented in the dark without them. However, the sound of Marcus stumbling into tables as he too tried to gain his bearings gave her a bit of satisfaction.
He tripped over a chair. His curses rang in her ears. Kyana smiled. She followed beside him, using what little bit of solidity she possessed to shove tables and planters into his path. Pots of long-forgotten soil crashed into his face and chest. Worktables knocked him to his knees. Each time he tripped and fumbled in the darkness, adrenaline gave her more energy. She threw everything she could in his path, hoping to keep him disoriented and away from Haven.
By the time she realized Marcus was doing nothing more than moving in a tiny circle, it was too late. He’d known her abilities would fade. That she’d exhaust herself trying to stop him. Her remaining strength was quickly waning. She held the Charm of Nine Gods to her face; the brightly polished gold had faded to a dull brass. She didn’t have much time left. He’d played her for a fool. Again.
With a roar, she dove for him. Marcus shuddered, his knife-wielding fist swung at her form, passing through her. With the last of her strength, she grabbed his hand as she passed through his body. As she fell to the floor, the clang of the weapon bouncing off a clay pot and skidding into the darkness brought her a moment’s peace.
Marcus shoved rotting tables out of his way, searching for his dagger. Kyana lay on her side, watching the distance close between Marcus and Haven.
Run! Damn it, Haven. Get your ass up and run! I can’t help you anymore. Fight the hunger and run!
As if hearing her, Haven looked at Kyana. The lifelessness in Haven’s eyes dissolved into fear, then anger. She thrashed against her bonds.
That’s it. Fight.
Marcus closed in on Haven. She swung out with her feet, tripping him. He dropped to his knees, his head banging off the stone sill. “Bitch!” He fumbled in the darkness for Haven. He straddled her waist, his hands closing around her throat. “Just because I don’t want to kill you doesn’t mean I won’t!”
Haven gurgled. Bucked against him. Fought to break her bonds. Then she stilled. Her crazed laughter made Kyana’s skin crawl. Her eyes glowed yellow-green in the faint light filtering through the melting ice covering the windows. Her body went rigid. The bones and muscles stretched and re-formed. Haven had found her dark side and it wasn’t Vampyric. The Lychen dominated.
No! Don’t do it, Haven. Please. You’ll never fight the darkness if you give in.
Kyana’s scream was a silent gush of frigid breath. She tried to struggle to her feet, but she could no longer move, could no longer prevent what was about to happen. She could do nothing more than watch as her best friend made her final transition to becoming a Dark Breed.
Chapter Thirty-two
Kyana lay on the hard, dirt-strewn floor among broken glass, shards of pottery, and crushed work benches. Drained. Lost in the darkness. She could hear Haven’s claws skittering across the floor as she struggled with Marcus. Hear him pleading for his life. Gripping the Charm of Nine Gods in her fist, Kyana waited for the time on her spiritual state to lapse.
Would she simply open her eyes and find herself on the banks of the River Styx, or would she spend eternity in the old greenhouse lying among the rotting tables and shattered pottery?
It didn’t matter. Nothing did. Time was up.
The floor beneath her cheek vibrated. Not sure what she’d see, and not brave enough to find out, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Her transportation to the Underworld had arrived. Kyana always believed she’d face her final death with dignity . . . not curled on a dirty floor, too weak and powerless and afraid to face her destiny.
“Kyana!”
Ryker? Warmth filled her belly, giving her enough energy to lift her head and look toward the closed door. But he was too late. Haven had fed, and Kyana was too weak to make her way back to her body. Concentrating on the door, she tried to shove it open. It moved just enough to let a little light in. Enough to reveal Ryker and Geoffrey. Enough to distract Haven. She lifted her head and growled.
Desperation unfogged Kyana’s tired mind. She focused on the door again. It flew open, then banged closed with such force it flopped on broken hinges.
Instinct had Haven crouching, her gaze locked on the door. Her golden fur coat quivered as she bared her teeth. Kyana could do nothing more than watch and pray Ryker’s and Geoff’s senses were on high alert.
Geoff entered first. The minute he stepped out of the small patch of light, Haven attacked. He caught her mid-air. Spun her around. Pinned her to his chest, making her whimper.
“I’ve got her,” he shouted, moving Haven into the shadows and letting her struggle until she was too worn out to hold on to her newly found body and she slid back into her normal, albeit naked and still struggling, form.
Kyana listened as he promised Haven she’d be okay. They had her. No one would hurt her again. Kyana wished the words had been meant for her too.
She closed her eyes and waited for death to claim her.
An army of footsteps made the floor quiver beneath her cheek. Kyana stilled her mind, pushed aside all fear and doubt, and waited.
“Kyana?” Ryker called out to her.
She opened her eyes, turned her head in the direction of his voice. She tried to speak, but again, nothing but faint breath passed her lips. Ryker entered the greenhouse, his arms burdened, but she couldn’t see what he held.
“You have to show me where you are.” He turned, searching the large room for her. It was then she realized what he held cradled in his arms. Her body. He’d brought her body.
Kyana fought against the lethargy. Tried to stand. Tried to let him know where she was. She had depleted her energies trying to stop Marcus. There was nothing left.
“Damn you, Ky!” His shout hurt her ears and warmed her heart. “I swear on Zeus I’ll stalk you through every level of Hell if you die on me.”
A faint fog settled around her. Icy fingers crept outward. Haven’s gaze locked on Kyana. Haven stilled. She released her grip on Geoff’s arm. Slowly, she raised her hand and pointed in Kyana’s direction.
Geoff followed the direction of Haven’s trembling hand. “Is it her? Is it Kyana?”
The part of Haven that Kyana had always called friend whimpered.
“To your right,” he yelled at Ryker.
Carefully, he moved in the direction they indicated and lowered Kyana’s limp body to the floor. A sound pulled his gaze to the door, then back to Geoffrey. “We have company.”
“Keep them off us,” Geoff yelled, his back to the door, his attention on Haven. “I can’t fight and keep control on her.”
Ryker’s gaze shifted to Kyana’s body, just three feet from her form. “Time to prove how kick-ass you are, Ky,” he whispered. He turned back to Geoffrey and pointed at Marcus. “Keep your eye on that bastard. If he so much as moves, kill him.”
Ryker stood, his feet braced, his head held high . . . His hands, as usual, were void of any weapons.
Anger boiled in Kyana’s belly and spread outward. Ryker might be able to hold his own in a fight but he couldn’t guard his own back. If Marcus woke, Geoffrey had his hands full with Haven. It would be up to Kyana to subdue the barkeep again. She had to make one more effort to finish what she’d started.
As though she could guard his back by sheer will, her gaze stayed locked on Ryker as she inched toward her body. With a howl of pure outrage, Ryker defended their sanctuary. Shrieks of pain and the splinter of bone and tendon filled the air. Marcus’s minions were strong and their numbers surprised her. Ryker wouldn’t be ab
le to hold them off on his own for long. How could so many be working against the Order and the gods and goddesses remain unaware?
Gripping her anger like a shield, she closed the distance until her fingers passed through her own hand. She could no longer distinguish the screams of pain from Ryker’s cries of fury.
Fear chilled her form. She’d been so worried about finding her friend, about saving her, that she hadn’t asked how to return to her body.
A movement caught her gaze. Marcus had awakened, and was now pushing to his feet. The glint of steel in his hand claimed her attention. He’d found his dagger and was moving toward Geoff and Haven.
No! Kyana’s scream did nothing more than cloud the air in front of her face. She watched horrified and helpless as Marcus slowly raised his arm, as the dagger plunged deeply into the side of Geoff’s neck, as her friend slumped forward, his body protecting Haven.
Kyana gripped the Charm of Nine Gods in her fist. Hoping it would be enough, she pushed to her knees, crawled the remaining distance to position herself next to her body. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and fell.
The world faded to black. Silent. Cold. Empty.
As quickly as it began, the sensation of nothingness disappeared and Kyana continued her fall back to the greenhouse. The sounds of bones snapping, painful howls, and death gurgles filled the void. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air. The numbness that had been her existence for the last hour was replaced with gut-wrenching pain.
Kyana rolled onto her side. Shards of broken pottery cut into her cheek, and nausea churned her stomach. Struggling to her knees, she tried to latch on to reality again. It took only a heartbeat to focus on the chaos around her. Ryker stood in the doorway, singlehandedly protecting them all. Bodies lay broken and beaten at his feet, but still the minions came.
She shifted her gaze to Geoff and Haven. Haven was struggling from under Geoff, who lay slumped on the floor, a pool of blood spreading out from beneath him.