Pride of the Lion hc-3

by N. J. Walters

  “Damn the Lady.” He flung the goblet toward the mirror, not wanting to see the image any longer. He realized what he’d done just as the goblet struck the glass. He flung out a surge of power, calling the wineglass back. If the mirror broke he would be blind to the world outside his realm. But there was no need. Mordecai’s hand hit the object and knocked it aside. Once again, the serpent had proven his worth.

  “So there is only one warrior remaining.” Hades continued as though nothing had happened and he hadn’t almost destroyed his only link to the earthly plane.

  “Arand.”

  “The wolf.” Hades rubbed his hands together. “We know who the woman is. All we need to do is bring them together so she can set him free.”

  “We need a new plan. The old one isn’t working.” Mordecai resumed his position leaning against the wall.

  Hades thought about sending a bolt of lightning at the warrior and disintegrating him, but as much fun as it would be to watch the warrior burn, he needed him if his plan was going to succeed. Of course, he could do it without the warrior, but it was so much easier to have others do his fighting for him.

  The warrior also wasn’t lying. Inserting demons into the lives of the women who freed the Lady’s guardians hadn’t worked. Neither had offering them deals. Maybe an all-out attack was in order. That’s the way he’d done it in the early days. He’d gotten Mordecai but lost Stavros and Phoenix. A dead warrior was no good to him. But his latest approach had allowed the last three to escape. Two of them were free. He muttered a curse, hating to admit he’d lost to Roric and Marko.

  At least Leander was out of the picture. He was seriously injured but could recover given time. Hades knew the warrior would soon be dead. Hades had seen how the warrior looked at Araminta and knew the lion would use his life force to try to save her. Other than beheading, the only way for one of the warriors to lose his life was if he willingly gave up his life force to another. Personally, Hades didn’t understand why the warrior would do this for another. It didn’t matter if Araminta lived. She was human and of no consequence. He might not get the warrior’s soul, but the lion wouldn’t be offering any interference in the future.

  “Maybe you’re right,” he conceded. “What do you suggest?” He would listen to what Mordecai had to say and then make his decision.

  In the shadows, Mordecai smiled, and there was such evil intent in it that a shiver raced down Hades spine.

  “Here’s what I think we should do.”

  The Lady shivered, chilled all the way to her soul. It was strange for her to be cold. In all the years of her existence the temperature had never affected her.

  “Lady.” The soft voice was followed by a gentle touch.

  “John?”

  “Yes.” A blanket was wrapped around her. “What have you done to yourself?”

  What had she done? For a moment, all was blank. Then it returned in a rush. She’d shifted time. Only a few hours, but it had taken an enormous amount of energy, of power. Time was not under her jurisdiction, and her actions would definitely cause ripples in other planes of existence.

  “Come. You must not stay here.” John lifted her until she was standing. She was so weak she leaned against him. “I’ll carry you.” He started to lift her, but she stopped him.

  “I can manage.”

  He was disgruntled but allowed her to walk, keeping his arm around her waist and lending her his strength. “What can I do to help you?”

  Love flooded through her, pure and clear as a mountain stream. “You’ve already done more than enough. I just need to rest and recharge.” Again.

  There was still another warrior waiting to be set free.

  She wished she knew what was happening with Leander. She’d done all she could for him and his woman. The rest was up to him. She glanced up at the sky and sent what little power that remained inside her spiraling off in his direction.

  When she swayed, John ignored her weak protests and lifted her into his arms. And she allowed it, having spent all her reserves.

  “I have camp set up. You’ll rest and eat.”

  She nodded, was too tired to speak any longer. The fight was not over and would get worse before it got better.

  She prayed for Roric and Marko and the women who were now a part of them. She prayed for Stavros and Phoenix, fallen warriors lost in the battle. She prayed for Arand, still trapped and waiting. She prayed that Leander might yet live. His soul had not yet passed over, not wanting to leave the woman behind.

  And she prayed for Mordecai and the dark path he’d taken.

  Araminta awoke to a chill that gripped her bones and made her shiver uncontrollably. Why was she so cold? An uneasy feeling filled her and she wondered what had woken her. Something warm rubbed against her face and then butted against her nose. The action was followed by a grumbling purr. Percy.

  She managed to pry open her eyes enough to create a thin slit of vision. Why was it so hard? Percy was staring at her, his green eyes filled with concern, or as concerned as Percy ever got. Maybe it was time for his feeding. Percy was always worried about being fed on time. Why was her mattress so lumpy and why had she gone to bed wearing her clothing?

  Her eyes started to close, too heavy for her to keep open, but Percy let out another grumble and she forced them back open. “Okay, I’m awake.” Honestly, the cat thought he was the boss of her. He was probably right, but there was no need to let him know that.

  It was difficult for her to open her eyes all the way, but she managed. She blinked and stared around her at the familiar trees and shrubs, at the swing in the corner and the fence just beyond. She was outside in her backyard. No wonder she was cold. It might be late May, but nights still got cool in North Dakota.

  In a daze, she lay on the grass and wondered how she’d gotten here. At first, her memory was a blank, a chalkboard wiped clean. She frowned and tried again. Like a light switch being turned on, memory rushed back, images tumbling over one another. But there was enough for her to make sense of it, to remember.

  Hades. The curse. Mordecai striking both of them with his sword. Leander falling and being pinned to the ground by Hades’ blade.

  “Leander.” She cried his name and scrambled to her knees, ignoring the shaft of pain that shot through her head and the way her stomach roiled when she moved. Her mattress wasn’t lumpy. She’d been lying on him.

  He was lying so still on the grass with his eyes closed. Dried blood coated his stomach, side and the pants he wore, but at least the bleeding seemed to have stopped. She wasn’t much better as blood coated her top and jeans. The traitor Mordecai had stabbed them both, leaving them to die.

  She swallowed back the bile that momentarily lurched up from her stomach and took a deep breath to steady herself before she touched Leander’s face. His skin was like ice. Why was she still alive? She’d felt herself die, felt the darkness overtake her. She’d been so afraid of ending up in Hell, but yet here she was. And why didn’t her stomach hurt?

  She yanked up her blood-soaked top and stared at her belly in disbelief. Instead of a gaping wound, there was a long reddish scar. What had happened?

  “Leander.” She released her top and turned her attention back to him, patting his cheek. “Wake up.” If she was okay then he should be too. Right?

  She remembered a light and a world filled with color. So many beautiful colors she knew she could never name them all. Was that heaven?

  The man still wasn’t moving, so she shook him. “Stop this. You’re scaring me.” Screwing up her courage, she placed two fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse. Nothing.

  Tears began to flood her eyes, spilling over and then flowing down her cheeks. “No. You can’t be dead.” She thumped her fist against his chest in anger. “Wake up. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

  She swiped at her face and studied his side in the dim light that spilled out into the yard from her kitchen. Her whole house was still ablaze with lights, the back door wide ope
n.

  He couldn’t be dead. Not after all they’d been through. Not now when the curse was broken. And it was broken. If it wasn’t, Hades would still be here or they’d be locked away somewhere in his realm.

  Maybe they were in Hell. Maybe her prison in Hell was to be beside Leander’s lifeless body for eternity, never able to wake him, always mourning what she had lost.

  “No. I won’t stand for it. You hear me.” She grabbed his face between her hands, leaned down and kissed him. It worked in the fairy tales, so why not in real life? “True love’s kiss is supposed to break all curses. It has to bring you back to life.” She kissed him again, ignoring the fact that his lips were cool to the touch when they were always so warm.

  She broke off the kiss and stared down at him, willing his eyes to open. “I love you. I love your lion too. Please, I understand that you can’t stay with me. I just want you to live. Please.”

  Desperate now, she lowered her head to his chest and began to sob. Maybe she wasn’t destined to have a happy ending like the other women had. Other women. Hope jolted alive within her. Maybe that was the key.

  Araminta jumped to her feet but hesitated, not wanting to leave him alone. She pinned Percy with a glare. “You stay with him.” As though the cat understood, he settled next to the large warrior and rested his head against one gigantic biceps.

  Satisfied the cat would watch over him, she raced into the house, ignoring the scorched floors and walls, broken glass, ripped books and the shattered remains of her furniture. At least the demons were gone, their bodies turned to dust and returned to where they’d come from. Not having to deal with their bodies was a plus.

  Where was her cell phone? Last she’d seen it, it was on the coffee table next to her computer. She shoved fallen bookshelves out the way and tossed aside sofa cushions. She only prayed the phone hadn’t been damaged in the fight. There. Under the chair was her computer, and right next to it was her phone. It must have gotten kicked there during the fight.

  She dived for it and held it carefully in her hands. “Please work. Please work. Please work,” she chanted as she pressed the on button. The cell phone came to life and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Her hand was shaking as she hit the redial button. Kellsie’s number was the last one she’d called. “Please answer, please answer,” she breathed under her breath. She worried about Leander lying alone out back with only Percy for company. Was there still a chance for him or was she too late? She started back to the yard, but tripped over some debris and fell to her knees.

  The phone only rang once before being answered. “What?” The voice was male and very disgruntled.

  “Is this Marko?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  Tears continued to drip down her face, but she ignored them and pushed herself off the floor. “This is Araminta.” She heard the sudden shuffling of clothing as he shifted position.

  “The curse is broken.” It was more a statement then a question, but she answered him anyway.

  “Yes.” She glanced at her watch to confirm that it was indeed past midnight. It was almost one o’clock. “But something is wrong. Leander isn’t moving.”

  “What do you mean he isn’t moving?”

  Keeping the phone against her ear, she gave him a rundown on the events as she hurried back out into the yard, not wanting to be away from him any longer. Leander hadn’t moved. Neither had Percy. “He’s just lying here.”

  “You’re sure his wounds are closed?”

  She took a closer look at his bloodstained stomach and was relieved to see the wound had closed, leaving an extremely long, reddish scar, just like hers. The gash on his side was similarly healed. “Yes. Both wounds look like they’re several weeks old rather than minutes.”

  “And you say that your injury was fatal?”

  “I thought I was dead.” She paused and rephrased what she’d said. “No, I know I was dead. There’s no way I should have lived with the severity of that gash and the amount of blood I lost.” It made her queasy just thinking about it.

  “He gave you his life force.” Marko was matter-of-fact, as though this was an everyday occurrence.

  “He did what?” How could he? He was necessary to win the fight against Hades. The world needed a champion, a warrior like Leander. Plus, she loved him. How could he leave her alone?

  “He gave you his life force, but he gave you too much.” Marko paused and she clutched the phone tighter, her knuckles turning white

  “What can I do?” There had to be something. She wasn’t willing to give up, not without a fight, not until all hope was gone.

  “Are you willing to die for him?”

  No hesitation. “Yes.” After all, technically she thought she already had.

  “Good. Then put the phone down, lay your hands on his chest and picture the energy inside your body leaving you and flowing into him. But be sure to hold back enough for yourself.”

  “Okay.” Suddenly she knew what to do. After all, she’d written the damn books. She knew what had happened to the other warriors, how they’d shared their immortality with the women who’d saved them. Or at least she thought she knew.

  Who knew what was fact and what was fiction since Hades had given her the stories through her dreams? But from what Marko was telling her, this part seemed to be true. And she needed to believe, needed to think there was some way to save Leander.

  She put the phone down next to her, laid her hands on his chest, over his heart, and closed her eyes. She pictured the beautiful lights she’d seen, imagined them flowing from her into Leander. It was easier than she’d thought it would be.

  Her entire body heated and warmth flowed down her arms, out the palms of her hands and into Leander. She willed him to live. “Open your eyes, goddammit.” The light began to dim and she started to panic. What if it wasn’t enough? She pushed harder, giving him all her love, giving him everything she was. The energy pulsed harder and ripped out of her control. Much like riding a runaway train, Araminta held on and prayed.

  Leander floated in a sea of darkness, lost in time and space. He had no idea where he was, but that didn’t bother him. Araminta was alive, he was sure of it, and that was all that truly mattered.

  He wished he could have been with her longer, spent the remainder of her life by her side. But it wasn’t to be. Sacrificing his life for her was a small price to pay. At least Hades didn’t have his soul. It seemed that no one did.

  He felt a slight tug and frowned. What was that?

  The tug grew greater and a wonderful warmth enveloped him. It felt comforting and loving and he automatically moved toward it. Was it the Lady come to claim him? While he was saddened at the thought of never seeing Araminta again, he was glad to be going home, ready to give whatever was left of his life essence to aid the Lady in the continuing war with Hades.

  His lion stirred and then growled. Leander tuned into his senses, trying to understand what was happening. He sniffed the air and listened carefully, but he couldn’t smell or hear anything.

  Suddenly, his entire body jolted as what felt like a million bolts of lightning shot through him. White light surrounded him, filled him, followed swiftly by a rainbow of colors.

  “No,” he yelled, finally understanding what was happening. But there was no stopping the life force from returning to its rightful owner. It streamed into him, happy to be home once again. Leander sat upright just as Araminta slumped over him. He caught her limp body and clutched her to his chest. “What have you done?” he roared.

  He turned her in his arms and lay her across his lap. He heard a voice yelling in the distance and swiveled his head, growling, ready to attack anyone who threatened his Araminta.

  Percy meowed and Leander shot his gaze toward the cat. Beside him was a rectangular box, Araminta’s cell phone. The voice was coming from there. He almost ignored it, but his keen ears caught his name being called by a familiar voice. He grabbed the phone. “Marko?”

  “It�
�s me. What happened to Araminta?”

  He held her closer to his chest. “She gave my life force back to me.”

  “Damn, I told her to hold some back.”

  Leander frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Listen up. You can share it with her, your immortality. Give her some of your life force, but not all of it. You still need most of it.”

  “What will that do to her?”

  “It will save her life and you can be together.”

  Leander dropped the phone and gathered her close to his heart. He murmured under his breath, willing the light from within him into her once again. But this time he carefully controlled it, letting it flow a little at a time until he felt her stirring. Colors swirled around them, enveloping them as a slow, warm stream flowed from his hands into Araminta. When he felt she’d had enough, he stopped and hung his head as exhaustion and gratitude tugged at him.

  Noise not far from him reminded him that Marko was still waiting on him. He grabbed the phone. “Thank you, my friend.” His heartfelt emotions made his voice quaver.

  “My pleasure.” Marko chuckled. “I think you have other things to attend to now, but call me later. We have much to discuss together and with Roric.” The bear paused. “Love her and do not let her go. The woman in your arms is a miracle. She gave her life for you.”

  “I know.” He thumbed off the phone and stood with Araminta safe in his arms. “Come on, Percy.” The cat ambled beside him as he went inside the house, pausing only to close and lock the door behind him. He dumped the phone on the counter, carried Araminta into her bedroom and gently set her down on the bed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The loveliest warmth filled Araminta. It was like floating in a pool of warm water on a hot summer day. She sighed and stretched, but it wasn’t water beneath her. It was firmer than that.

  “Look at me.”

  She’d know that deep, commanding voice anywhere. Her eyelids fluttered open and he filled her vision. “Leander.” He was leaning over her, his incredible golden eyes filled with concern. His brows were furrowed, giving him a very stern expression. She smiled at him, feeling kinda loopy, as though she’d had one too many glasses of wine on an empty stomach. She reached up and rubbed at the furrow in his forehead. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”