Guillem leaped onto Marek’s back and he turned with him, grabbed his arm and threw him over his head, sending him flying into one of the statues that stood at four corners of the park. The male dropped to the dirt and didn’t move.
Esher seized hold of the illusionist again, his short black claws sinking deep into her throat as he held her in front of him, between him and the wraith.
Eli bared his fangs and a short black and violet blade appeared in his hand.
Marek raised his hand and thick shards of rock shot from the ground like spikes. Eli leaped backwards, glaring at him as he evaded each one. His violet eyes flared brighter as the distance between him and Lisabeta grew.
She struggled in Esher’s grip and whatever illusion she was casting, it was angering his brother. Crimson invaded his black eyes. His lips peeled off his razor-sharp fangs.
Was she trying to push him over the edge?
“Whatever she is putting in your mind, it is all lies, brother.” Marek grabbed his shoulder and shook him.
When that didn’t rouse him, Marek risked it.
He seized Lisabeta and yanked her from his brother’s grip, twisted her into his arms and into a chokehold that had her gasping for air as his forearm closed over the front of her throat.
Esher turned crimson-edged eyes on him. They narrowed and Marek gritted his teeth as he felt the blood slowing in his veins, his heart labouring as the flow of it became dangerously weak.
“Esher,” he gritted and struggled to keep his grip on Lisabeta as she lashed out at him, clawing and kicking him.
Esher snarled low.
Marek’s vision wobbled.
Maybe taking Lisabeta had been a terrible mistake.
It might have freed his brother of the illusion, but it had also pushed him close to the edge of losing control.
Because he had taken Esher’s prey from him.
“Esher.” He tried again.
When his blood felt as if it was growing thicker in his veins and Esher looked ready to finish him off, he hurled Lisabeta at his brother, hoping it would appease him and stop him from killing him.
Esher grinned and caught her, sank claws into her shoulders and stared deep into her eyes.
Whatever she saw there, it tore a scream from her throat.
“Lisabeta.” Eli lunged for her.
Marek backhanded him. He wanted to kill him, but they needed one of them alive for questioning, and Eli was higher up the chain of command.
Plus, Esher had a score to settle with Lisabeta.
“You… killed… her.” Esher snarled, his voice darker than Marek had ever heard it as he struggled to speak. He sucked down one ragged breath and then another, the crimson in his eyes spreading as his countenance changed, all of the light leaving it as his other side, the vicious and terrible one that had been born centuries ago in the wake of Esher being held captive and tortured, rose to the fore. “You… killed… Aiko.”
Eli lunged for Lisabeta again, ducked and disappeared as Marek lashed out at him to stop him from interfering.
Esher bellowed.
Eli loomed behind him, grinning as he pulled the dagger from Esher’s shoulder and raised it to strike again.
Marek stepped and pulled Esher to one side.
The blade struck.
Lisabeta screamed.
Eli staggered backwards, his hand slipping from the hilt of the dagger as his eyes widened, his lips parting as he stared at her.
She sank to her knees, raised trembling hands and clutched the hilt where it protruded from the left side of her chest.
“Lisabeta.” Eli recovered and reached for her.
She grunted and inched the blade from her flesh, her gasping cries filling the night.
Esher didn’t give her a chance to remove it.
He broke free of Marek’s grip and slammed his palm against it, driving it deeper into her chest.
Eli yelled, “Lisabeta!”
He kicked off, his eyes blazing with fury as they landed on Esher’s back.
Esher hauled Lisabeta onto her feet and twisted to face Eli, using her as a shield as she weakly fumbled with the hilt of the blade, her fingers slipping in all the black blood as it cascaded from the wound.
“Talk, and maybe I will spare her.” Esher cupped her jaw, keeping her head up as it lolled.
Her hand slipped from her chest, falling lax at her side.
Esher angled his head away from her and looked down at her face. He jostled her, frowning when she didn’t respond, a flicker of confusion in his near-crimson eyes.
“Esher.” Marek edged towards him.
He kept shaking her, harder and harder when she didn’t respond.
“Esher.”
His brother looked at him.
Too far gone to comprehend what he had done.
Eli understood it all too well.
On a vicious roar, he launched at Esher while his brother was distracted, another blade materialising in his hands. Marek pulled Esher backwards and tried to teleport.
Nothing happened.
He had used too much of his power already.
All he could do was watch as Eli sailed towards his brother, murder in his eyes, and Esher refused to budge, kept looking at Lisabeta where she hung limp from his arms, as if she was miraculously going to spring back to life as he wanted.
Marek focused on the earth and put all of his strength into summoning a wall, his heart racing as time slowed, as Eli plunged the blade towards Esher and his heart lurched into his throat.
Too late.
His heart felt as if it would stop as the blade met Esher’s chest.
It did stop when a wall of blue hexagonal glyphs shimmered across the air, spreading outwards from the point of the blade where it had halted just an inch from Esher’s body.
Esher finally roused himself, a low growl rumbling through him as he discarded the dead daemon and narrowed his eyes on the wall of glyphs, and then turned his glare on Caterina.
Marek leaped into his path before he could even think about attacking her. “She’s on our side.”
Esher’s crimson-to-black eyes pierced right through him, remaining fixed on Caterina.
Eli rallied and attacked again.
Esher shot his right hand out, closed it around Eli’s throat before he could land a blow, and twisted with him, slamming his back into the ground. The daemon’s breath left him on impact and he disappeared. Esher’s knee hit the dirt where the daemon had been, another dissatisfied snarl leaving him as he realised his quarry had escaped.
Marek intercepted Eli as he appeared again, sweeping in between him and Esher before he could attack his brother. He blocked the arm Eli held the blade in as he lunged at him, knocking it aside and gaining some space, and reared back as a blade flew between them, cutting across his vision.
It snapped into Esher’s hand and he kicked off, swiping at the daemon, driving him back past Lisabeta’s body. Eli’s eyes dropped to her and he snarled, the pained sound filling the thick night air. The wraith stopped evading Esher and attacked, his strikes swift and vicious as his lips peeled back off his teeth and his eyes glowed violet.
Marek joined his brother, working with him to block blows and wear the daemon down, waiting for the right opening, one where he could land a blow without being cut with the daemon’s blade.
But it was Esher who began to slow as they danced around the square, his movements growing sluggish, each swipe with the blade he had pulled from Lisabeta’s body weaker than the last.
Blood tracked down Esher’s back from his shoulder.
Cold realisation slid down Marek’s spine.
“Go home,” Marek shouted as he moved around behind Eli, trying to keep the daemon away from his brother.
Even when he was aware it was too late.
Esher’s eyes verged on scarlet, his other side rising to the fore as the wound the wraith had dealt him continued to weaken him. He needed to get his brother away from the wraith, before the poi
son the blade had delivered could kill him. The last time the wraith had stabbed Esher, it had taken all of Megan’s strength to reverse the damage and save him.
“Esher.”
When his brother didn’t listen, Marek pulled his phone from his pocket and fired off a message as quickly as he could manage.
Esher lunged for Eli, landing a hard blow on the daemon, one that staggered him. His brother followed it with another, slashing across the male’s chest and carving a line through the breast of his black coat. He attacked again as Eli struggled to shake off the blow to his head, but stumbled at the last second, his left knee giving out and sending him to the ground.
Eli slowly smiled.
The blade tumbled from Esher’s hand as he shook his head, the finger-length strands of his black hair falling to cover one side of his face. He sank forwards, planting his hands against the golden dirt, and swallowed hard.
Marek whipped his hand out and focused on the fallen dagger. It shot into his palm and he closed his fingers over it as he kicked off, lunging at Eli. The wraith was swift to leap backwards, evading the strike Marek aimed at his neck.
He just needed to buy more time.
He willed Daimon to move his arse.
Marek struck with all of his strength at every opportunity he got, driving Eli away from Esher as his brother began to move again, low growls and snarls rumbling from him as he clawed at the earth.
“Hurry, Daimon,” Marek muttered and lashed out at Eli, catching him across his left shoulder.
He twisted and spun around the daemon, landing another blow that cut up his back, slowly weakening him.
He sensed it when his brother appeared.
Esher must have felt it too.
Because an unholy roar left him and he barrelled into Marek, knocking him aside, and lunged at Eli.
“Fucking hell,” Daimon bit out. “Esher’s message said he had this. This is not having it.”
“Damn it.” Marek tried to get up but hit the dirt again when Esher slammed a boot into his chest, knocking the wind from him. He wheezed as it felt as if someone had just caved his ribs in on his lungs and fought for air.
He had thought Esher had messaged for backup.
He should have known his brother would see this as an opportunity to hunt, his other side driven to claim his prey without anyone interfering.
“Thought… he called… for backup.” Marek eased onto his knees.
Daimon scowled at Esher’s back as he fought the wraith, landing blows with his claws and bare fists, battering the daemon.
“He’ll kill him.” Marek staggered onto his feet. “Stop him.”
Daimon’s ice-blue eyes widened and slid to Marek. “I don’t really fancy my chances.”
“We need him alive. Calindria…” It was all Marek needed to say.
Daimon was moving in a split-second. He disappeared and reappeared behind Esher as their brother brought his claws down in a fast arc towards the daemon’s neck. Daimon grabbed him from behind, throwing his aim off.
“Esher,” Daimon murmured, his voice soft despite how violently he was wrestling with Esher, trying to get him under control as he fought to break free.
Marek shoved off, moving as quickly as he could towards Eli.
“We need him alive.” Daimon edged his hand up.
Esher snarled and snapped his fangs at it when it came close to his face, twisted and elbowed Daimon in the side of his head, knocking him away.
“Wraith… dies.” Esher turned cold eyes on Daimon. “You die… if you interfere.”
Daimon planted his hands on his hips and his white eyebrows met hard above his glittering frosty eyes. “You gonna kill me? I don’t think so. Maybe you need to take a nap.”
Esher bared his fangs and kicked off, springing away from Daimon.
Towards Eli.
Marek leaped into his path and took the blow meant for the daemon, gritting his teeth as Esher’s claws slashed across his chest, fire erupting in the wake of them.
Esher stilled.
His red eyes regained a sliver of black as he stared at the wounds on Marek’s chest.
Eli made a break for it.
“Damn it.” Marek pushed through the agony searing his chest and went after him.
“Kill the wraith. Free her soul.” Esher’s plan was solid.
But killing Eli meant destroying their chance to get information from him, intel that might prove vital in the fight ahead.
Eli gave him a better reason not to kill him when he caught the bastard.
“I might have taken her soul, but I gave it to another, made him the owner of it and you will never find it… I will make sure of that,” Eli spat and stopped running.
And turned to face Marek.
Plan A it was then. Capturing him. He just needed Daimon to keep Esher under control for a few seconds more and he would be on the daemon, taking him down.
Eli kept perfectly still as Marek sprinted towards him, and Marek wanted to grin.
Eli did grin.
“You took Lisabeta from me. I will keep your sister from you.”
Marek threw himself at Eli.
Something hit him like a truck from the side, sending him crashing to the ground. He rolled into one of the low hedges and grunted as a fist struck his jaw, knocking his head into the dirt. Weight pressed down on him and he bucked it off, wanted to growl when he saw who it was.
Guillem.
His eyes were bright violet.
The bastard was a wraith, not a vampire.
Marek twisted with him, pinning him beneath him as he rolled back onto the path and looked up at Eli.
Dark purple and black smoke rapidly spread behind him.
Eli stepped backwards towards it.
Esher blazed past Marek, on a collision course with the daemon.
Even with his other side at the helm, his brother was too slow, the effect of the wraith’s blade taking its toll on him.
Esher reached the portal just as it dissipated, disturbing the remaining smoke as he twisted in all directions, flashing fangs and snarling as he tried to find the wraith.
His prey.
Daimon slammed into him, taking him down. “Time to sleep.”
Esher lurched, attempting to buck Daimon off him, but Daimon pressed his hands to the sides of Esher’s head. Esher’s struggles slowed as frost glittered over Daimon’s hands, his skin paling as their brother’s ability took effect, the cold sapping his strength.
This time, Daimon broke away before he went too far, leaving Esher breathing softly and slowly as he shuddered, wracked with shivers.
Daimon looked across at Marek, sorrow crossing his features.
It echoed in Marek too, but he refused to lose hope.
He was sure that whoever Eli had given Calindria’s soul to was involved in this plot too.
They would have their shot at the bastard and the wraith.
And they would kill both of them.
Once they knew how to find Calindria’s soul.
He looked across at Caterina where she knelt in the middle of the path, holding herself as sweat dotted her brow and she trembled, shaking violently.
But for now, he had a daemon to take care of.
Chapter 35
Caterina was too weak to fight Marek as he scooped her onto her feet, wrapped an arm around her ribs and walked her towards her brother. Guillem hissed and snapped fangs at Marek’s white-haired brother, earning a glare from him that had his eyes turning glacial, like a winter storm.
She trudged along beside Marek, heart growing heavier with each step as the look he had given her and what he had said to Eli ran around her head. She was a daemon. What did he want with a daemon?
She swallowed hard as an answer came to her.
Information.
She was sure that it was the only reason she was alive now, being led towards her brother. Marek wanted information from her. She had seen another of the wraith’s safehouses. There was a chance she co
uld explain to him where to find it. Would that be enough to buy her freedom?
She couldn’t teleport him there, not with whatever Eli had carved into her forehead still active.
The white-haired god towering over her brother grew bored of his constant threatening and she flinched as he placed a gloved hand on Guillem’s head. He paled and slumped to the ground, out cold just like Esher.
“I can take them, Daimon.” Marek stopped at Esher’s booted feet.
Daimon glanced down at Esher, a wealth of love in his eyes, conflict that told her how deeply he wanted to be the one to take care of their brother.
“You’re weak. You can’t teleport him in your condition. I’ll make it quick.” Daimon crouched beside Esher, hovering a hand over his arm, and looked up at Marek, as if waiting for permission.
The moment Marek nodded, Daimon laid a hand on Esher and they were gone, only wisps of black smoke left behind them.
Marek tugged her to her brother, stooped and did the same, teleporting the moment he made contact with Guillem.
The black whirled around them, her head twirling with it, stomach rebelling as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to endure the effect of the teleport as it ravaged her tired aching body. When they landed, she kept her eyes closed, waiting for the spinning to slow before she dared risked opening them.
“Take him to the castle.” Marek’s deep voice curled around her, and the ache inside her worsened, because she still found it comforting.
“Sure,” Valen answered, and in the background, she heard Marek’s other brothers.
“I cannot believe he would do such a reckless thing.” Keras sounded close to snapping at someone.
Marek?
Was he angry because Marek had brought her to this place, their sanctuary?
She opened her eyes, instinct pushing her to react, to defend him even when she knew it wouldn’t help him, or make a difference. A flash of his cold eyes danced across her mind, his words still echoing in her ears.
She was a daemon.
When she looked at Keras, she found him gazing down at Esher where he rested in his arms, cradled against his chest.
Marek: Guardians of Hades Series Book 4 Page 36