Darkness Unbound

by Zoe Forward

  Astrid ran for him when he sagged against the rocks. “I don’t understand any of this. Was that knife poisoned and you’re going to die or something?”

  “Technically, I am already in hell. So, if I die I will be sent here. Or wherever in the afterworld regions. But no, it will not kill me. Like you, I am magus. She has not the power to kill me. ’Tis not in the contract.”

  She whispered, “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.” He slid to a sit. She knelt beside him. He put a hand against her cheek. “I will survive. It is apparently not my destiny to die here. But you cannot be here.”

  “I don’t know how to go anywhere with those doorways other than to you.”

  “You can. The portal to me is just familiar. I know not how your energy works, but perhaps if you focus strongly on where you want to go, where you need to go, it will happen. Try it.”

  “I already did, but it got me here. What I need is to go get some weapons and rip those fuckers that tried to kidnap and then rape us.”

  Zannis’s face darkened. “Rape? Take me there.”

  She cupped his face. “I think I’ll go it alone. They’re mine. I was just caught off-guard and unarmed. It won’t happen again. Besides, you’re not in great shape. I think that snake must’ve hit you with something, didn’t it?”

  He nodded. “I can still fight humans.”

  She smoothed her hand into the soft strands of the golden hair on his neck and then up to the back of his head. “So fierce.”

  He grinned. “A kiss before you depart?” He pulled her head toward him. She took possession of his mouth. Her tongue swept into his—hot and demanding. A turbulent storm swept her into a primitive world of pure feeling.

  His hand moved up to rest on her waist, pulling her close.

  She wanted him with every fiber of her being. Her body raged for release, but she pulled away, still fearful of him. “Not here.”

  “You are right. You must leave.”

  She caught a wave of pain from him. “Let me get the akhrian. She’s here.”

  His gaze widened. “She?”

  “Yeah, Ashor’s her guy…uh, the one in charge.”

  “The akhrian is a senariai? And she’s senariai to the Prime?”

  She nodded.

  “You can waste no more time here. Get them back now. Or all will be lost. Please, rouhi, go.”

  She jogged along the jagged rock until she found the small cave several hundred yards up. “You guys okay?” she asked.

  “It’s damned spooky in here. We were just about to set off in search of you,” Julie declared.

  Kira stepped forward. “My amulet is telling me there’s an injured magus other than you here. Is it your guy? Take me to him. I need to heal him before we go.”

  Astrid put her hands on her hips. “He didn’t want help. I offered to get you.”

  “Like any of those guys would ask for help.” She narrowed her gaze on Astrid’s side. “None of you will. Lead away. I’m going nowhere until we do this.”

  Astrid led back up the hill to where Zannis rested, now paler than before.

  “Hi,” Kira said as she knelt beside him and rest a hand on his arm. “I’m the new doctor.”

  Zannis wheezed out, “Leave me. Get Astrid to take you back.”

  “All in good time. Looks like we came here for a reason.” Kira smiled briefly and closed her eyes in concentration for less than a minute and then stepped away.

  Zannis looked up in gratitude. “You did not need to take care of the other issues.”

  Kira rolled her eyes. “You guys are all the same. Stubborn. And suffering in silence. This is my job.”

  “Okay, time for us to get home.” Astrid connected with Zannis for a moment, every aspect of her soul screaming not to leave him here.

  His voice rumbled in her brain. I belong here. This is where the gods have placed me.

  She closed her eyes and focused on Kane. She needed a weapon to eliminate those assholes that shot her. The energy sizzled through her body, and a new portal opened.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Don’t push,” Kira complained.

  “Where are we this time?” Julie asked.

  “No idea,” Astrid replied. She felt around the small room lined with shelves of cans and boxes. A closet? No obvious doorknob. She pushed on all the walls, finally breaking free and out into a kitchen. Ashor, Javen, and Nate stared at them, startled. She pinpointed Kane. A small part of her brain did a happy jig that Zannis was right. She could do a doorway to somewhere other than to him. The other part of her mind recognized she was weak, and not just from blood loss. Too many doorway openings in one day. She moved out of the pantry to the counter and gripped its edge, hoping its support would help stabilize the vertigo that threatened to push her into a knee-bender spew.

  Astrid swallowed hard and stared at Kane. “I need a weapon.”

  Their gazes locked in understanding. Kane stood slowly. He held out his palms, his Glock in one and his prized serrated blade in the other. “Your pick. Why were you ladies in the pantry? Seems awfully crowded in there for all four of you.”

  The others shot her blank, astonished stares.

  “I portaled us back.” Astrid sought Ashor’s attention, but his gaze was locked onto Kira for a few moments before she ran for him. When Ashor finally glanced her way, she announced, “He was right. I can get a doorway open to other places.”

  “Where did you come back from?” Ashor asked in a deadly tone.

  “We got road blocked on our way into town—”

  “What the bloody hell were you doing going into town?” Ashor thundered. His face mottled red, and veins stood out in his neck.

  “Ladies’ night out. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know.” Kira ran her hands up his arms. Softly she said, “Calm down. We had our own magus with us. She kept us safe.”

  Astrid collected the knife Kane offered. “I’m going to get the car back.” She turned to summon a portal that would lead back to the car, focusing on the gang leader’s pock-marked leer.

  “You can’t kill humans unless they’re attacking us,” Ashor warned.

  Astrid halted. She placed her left hand against her side and held up her bloodied palm. “One of the bastards shot me.”

  “Then, have fun.” Ashor shrugged.

  “I knew you were hiding something, Astrid,” Kira said. “Let me—”

  “I’m fine. It’s a scratch.” Astrid narrowed her eyes at Kira, halting her approach mid-stride.

  Kira threw up her arms. “Fine. Then I will see you when you get back.”

  “You’re shot?” Kane asked. He pushed past Ashor. “I’m in.”

  Astrid’s chest squeezed, and she bit her lip against a giddy smile. No matter how much she mucked up interpersonally with him, he was always there for her. A shimmer of disappointment flitted through her brain that they’d stepped back into old patterns. Partners. Business only. She shoved that thought away. The important thing was that Kane would be there.

  “I think I shall join you,” Javen announced as he placed his still-smoking joint on the counter.

  Ashor bellowed, “The rule—”

  “Got it. This can be a training op or whatever. Perhaps, one of them will come at me. Then…” Javen trailed off with a smile, twirling a dagger.

  “Astrid, don’t bring Draggon here again today,” Ashor warned.

  “I can handle this on my own,” Astrid said.

  “Just don’t,” Ashor growled.

  Astrid shrugged a why-not at him. No one, not even this this centuries-old leader, got to boss her around.

  Ashor pointed at her. “You shot…Draggon will freak out. And get into deep waters with the gods again.”

  “He already gave me the thumbs up on this. I don’t need his help.” Astrid pivoted and walked toward the closet. She envisioned the Mexican with his smoking cigarette. A new doorway opened. She hoped this would be the right one. The last thing she wanted was to have Kane and Zanni
s come face-to-face.

  “Who’s Draggon?” Kane asked from behind her. Suspicion laced his tone.

  “Just a guy,” she mumbled.

  “You are not still messing with that guy are you?”

  She darted a glare at him. “You coming?” And ducked through the portal.

  “Damn it, Astrid.” On the other side of the portal, Kane said, “Well, that was interesting.”

  Astrid threw a palm against the car’s passenger front door as her peripherals darkened and then lit with sparkles. She pointed at the Mexicans milling around the opposite side of the car. All four of the car’s doors were open. The contents of the glove box were strewn across the front seat.

  Javen sauntered through the doorway. His dilated eyes met hers.

  “You’re high,” Astrid accused.

  “Oh, how I wish, love, that I could find something to take me all the way there. I might be slightly buzzed.” He glanced around as if utterly bored. “So, let’s talk about seichim.”

  “What? Say-keem? This isn’t a teaching exercise.”

  “Those clowns?” Javen nodded at the milling hostiles. “I think Kane can handle them for now. The gods gave you not only this kickass teleport thing, but also seichim. It’s this mystic energy that allows you to focus, be better than you are…stronger and whatnot.”

  “Which one of the assholes shot you?” Kane asked.

  “Not real sure,” she replied.

  Javen cleared his throat. “So to activate seichim, you have to concentrate.”

  Kane sauntered around the front of the car. He squared off against the quartet of would-be kidnappers. Kane always did have balls of steel. Damn it. He was going to get himself killed.

  A dyed-blond hostile twirled his blade and mouthed off about Kane’s mother.

  Javen continued his boring tirade.

  “Quiet,” Astrid ordered Javen.

  Kane turned his head to look at her—and that’s when it happened. The blond loudmouth thrust his blade straight into Kane’s gut. Definite bowel penetration.

  Astrid screamed. Her body surged forward.

  Kane whipped around on the blond Mexican, his face tight with anger and pain. He yanked the weapon from his abdomen. But how long would his strength last? Even injured, he was so intent on going after the asshole, and would probably get himself even more messed up in the process. All this anger over the fact someone shot her? This event had a flashing neon sign over it that read her fault.

  She would not be the cause of Kane’s death. He was her rock. She didn’t want to lose him this afternoon, tomorrow, or any other day.

  That’s messed up, she told herself. She was just getting it on with Zannis, and now she admitted to a major thing for Kane? Maybe this was just codependence after a few years of working together.

  Why wasn’t he pulling his Glock? Was he turning suicidal on her?

  When a knife slashed Kane’s forearm, she released a scream and let anger consume her. She locked onto the Mexican moving in on Kane’s left. Her momentum pushed the guy backwards off his feet into the car door with a dent-impacting thud. She punched his face, crunching his nose. Blood splattered her face. She tore into the enemy with Kane’s knife, hacking his chest. Then rationality crashed in. She ended it with a throat slash.

  She needed to assess Kane’s injury. As she pivoted, Kane landed a hook punch into his attacker’s cheek. He held out his left hand to her. She tossed the blade, which Kane caught in a smooth move that landed the knife in the enemy’s heart.

  A hostile barreled into her, crashing her against the car with an ear-ringing thud.

  Come on, Javen. Get your ass in the game, she thought. She stared at Javen from where her head was smashed against the car by her attacker.

  Javen glanced up briefly, and resume cleaning his nails with the tip of his dagger. “Wish I could get in the game. I need them to attack me first. You do know you’re five times stronger than that human, if you’d just activate seichim. Forget everything you learned as a human and kick his ass. You could rip his limbs off, break his neck, whatever.”

  Maybe on a day when she wasn’t down a pint of blood and fighting vertigo she’d be stronger.

  A fourth hostile rounded the car, rifle raised. He targeted Javen who held his arms wide with an oh-please grin. The hostile unloaded one round from a shotgun. Javen dodged the bullets’ impact. His eerie hair-raising laughter stopped everyone.

  “Well, halle-fucking-lujah.” Javen twirled his knife. “You three are mine.”

  With a super-speed move that had Astrid blinking a what-the-hell, Javen hauled her attacker away and proceeded to do a knife hacking demo that’d make any forensic pathologist proud. In comparison, her knife work looked amateur. Within less than a minute, the other two lay unquestionably dead in a pool of crimson slashes. Javen wiped his blade on one of his victim’s shirts, and stepped away.

  Javen announced, “That, Astrid, is what seichim can do for you.”

  “How’d you manage to keep your shirt clean?” Kane asked with one hand cradled against his gut.

  Javen pointed his knife at Astrid. “As I was saying, seichim is all about focus. Gives you speed, accuracy, and in general kickass killer ability.”

  “You’re bleeding,” she blurted to Kane.

  Kane flashed a lopsided smile. “So are you.”

  Darkness pressed on her brain, to which she mentally yelled not right now. She stumbled against the car. Kane caught her and lifted her into his arms with a grunt.

  Astrid mumbled, “Put me down. You’re hurt worse than me.”

  He whispered near her ear. “I’ve got you. You’ve been bleeding too long. You should take better care of yourself.” His deep blues sucked her in with the promise of protection.

  She ordered, “Get us into the car, Langford, before one of us falls down.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Kane gently propped her in the back seat and shuffled around the back of the car to scoot in next to her.

  “You okay?” Astrid asked Kane as Javen squealed the car into a one-eighty. Javen punched it, whiplashing them hard against the backseat.

  Kane didn’t respond. His eyelids remained closed, and his head tilted back against the headrest. His body slowly listed to his right.

  She jerked him upright and snapped, “Don’t even think about it. If you die, I’m going to be ticked off.”

  Kane’s eyes blinked open. He did a few open and shuts as if confused.

  “You stay with me,” she ordered. “You hear me, Kane? Stay with me, damn it.”

  He nodded before his eyes shut again. Kane’s large hand enveloped hers. She stared down at their connection. And squeezed back, needing the flexion of his touch. That small confirmation of his vitality soothed her, but didn’t diminish her guilt. She whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  His hand grip weakened, and his head thudded against the window.

  Shit. “Drive faster, Javen.” She touched Kane’s wrist, releasing her held breath when she detected his pulse. Not as strong as she’d like, but not dead. She didn’t remove her hand from that confirmation he lived. She whispered, “Don’t die on me, Kane.”

  ****

  Astrid twisted the shower knobs to full blast with heat set to max. She perched on the hard edge of the nearby sunken tub and stared at the tiled shower stall until steam filled the room. She fiddled with the ties of her terrycloth robe.

  Kane is fine, she told herself for the hundredth time since she’d checked on him minutes ago. He slept a few doors down. The doctor said she’d done what she could. He needed rest, but he’d make it.

  He’s alive, she told herself. Get in the shower.

  Her mind slid from Kane to Zannis, concerned that, like Kane, Zannis could also be damaged and half-dead in hell. Familiar energy buzzed her chest as it readied to open a portal, no doubt to Zannis. No. Out of habit she cursed Zannis, and embraced the hate that surfaced. But she shouldn’t feel that anymore. She didn’t need to, right? His murder attempt hadn’t be
en his fault, or so he claimed. The guy lived in hell. He suffered now because of her. Because he’d gone a little nuts after what happened. He broke one of the gods’ rules. But a small part of her brain wondered why he hadn’t fought harder to protect her. How could this unparalleled warrior the other magi both feared and respected fail to fight one daemon, if he’d loved her? If it’d been her, she would’ve stopped that sword’s path, or died before it killed the man she loved. Maybe her love hadn’t been reciprocated. They’d only had one night.

  The energy in her chest zipped down her limbs. A doorway slowly opened in front of the bathroom sink. Shit. Her thoughts had distracted her.

  “Why do you summon me? Are you in danger?” Zannis asked. His body stood poised for action.

  She snapped upright. Her breath caught when he crossed into the bathroom and she noticed his face. Compassion burst beyond the confusion of her feelings. She crossed to him and brushed her fingers over a nasty bruise along his left cheek, and healing laceration above his puffy left eye. “Another altercation with the snake?”

  He shrugged.

  “Why are you trapped there?” She stepped backwards out of his reach.

  “My punishment for…crimes of the past.” He stared down at her. The sludgy black swirled viciously over his blue irises.

  God, his face, despite the trauma, was impossibly handsome—arrogant, masculine, and resolute. Her body vibrated with the need to feel his hands on her. Her breasts tingled as air teased through the opening of her robe, like the flick of a tongue teasing them to peaks.

  “Astrid,” he murmured hoarsely. “Do not look at me with such...” His voice trailed off.

  Her mind swirled with sexual longing, disappointment, and sorrow for all they’d lost. She hadn’t been with a man since him. None elicited anything close to this feral need, or tempted her with a soul-searing connection. For just a few minutes, she needed to feel that sense of belonging. She unbuttoned the first three buttons of his dark shirt and pulled it up over his head. Her mouth skimmed across his chest.

  He rested a hand against her cheek. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”

  She fumbled at his unfamiliar pants fastening.