Absolute Surrender

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  When Echo came to, she was still lying on the stone slab. She squinted, trying to focus but everything remained hazy and dark.

  Torches burned in the distance now and added an eerie glow to the huge space. The serrated rock-face gleamed wetly with what she hoped was water. The thick stench of sulfur made breathing hard. A cough racked her lungs.

  Have to get out of here, have to get—no, no, have to kill the demonii bastard first. He’ll kill Aethan.

  She turned her head to the side. Neal watched her with a zeal that didn’t bode well for her. Yeah, she’d have to hurt the snake, make him wish he’d never crossed her path for threatening to kill her mate. She’d slice him up into pieces and toss his useless carcass to the Hellhounds.

  First, she had to get out of here. She rolled to her side and sat up. Only she fell off the slab and landed on her ass. Echo bit down on her lip as pain darted along her spine. The cavern spun, or was it her head? Scooting on her bottom, she backed up until she hit the stone block behind her.

  Hastily, she took stock of her condition and found she was able to move all her limbs, which was good. The grogginess faded a bit, but her jaw ached from when that bastard Neal had slapped her. She winced. Her head pounded like spikes were being drilled into it, and she recalled Andras planting a fist on her temple. She fumbled in her boot for her dagger. Empty.

  Please, please work. She willed her dagger back—and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the reassuring steel of the hilt moments later.

  Andras flashed in. Echo pulled her hand back as he sauntered over to her. “You’re up again. Good. It’s time, precious. Bring her.”

  Terror raced through her. Oh God, no!

  ‘Aethan, help me!’

  Neal grabbed her, dragging her to her feet.

  The barricaded entrance exploded, showering the cavern with rubble. The stone ground beneath her feet vibrated violently. She stumbled and braced herself against the slab. Dust flew in the air as Aethan and Dagan burst inside.

  His expression cold and lethal, Aethan’s gaze zeroed in on her. Relief crossed his face.

  ‘Hold on, me’morae. I’ll get you out.’

  “Keep her away from him,” Andras ordered Neal. “And shoot him.”

  Neal seized her arm and held the gun with his other hand, aiming the weapon at Aethan.

  No! Echo clawed at Neal’s hand, struggling to break free. For some reason she couldn’t seem to dislodge his hold. Had to be the crap they pushed down her throat which had weakened her.

  Demoniis rushed in from the shadows, filling the cavern. The horde attacked. A white light lassoed out of Aethan’s sword, filled with his power, decapitating several demoniis at once as he worked his way to her. More came at his back, crawling over him like ants. A white flare of his powers seeped out of him to incinerate the fiends on him. Their bodies, turning to ash, rained to the ground.

  Dagan dropped demonii bodies as he waded through them with his sword, his long hair flying around him like another weapon.

  Echo let her body go lax. No way would she allow a vermin like Neal to hurt Aethan. A demonii crashed into them, Neal’s grip loosened. She broke away. Too close to plant a good fist in his belly, she gathered whatever strength she had and kneed the snake in the balls, dropping him to his knees. His howl became lost in the fracas of guttural grunts filling the cavern. She slid her hand into her boot and grasped the hilt of her dagger.

  ‘Echo, get out of here!’ Aethan yelled through their mind link.

  A brutal hand grabbed her arm, almost crushing her bones. The odor of coppery vanilla taunted her nostrils. She didn’t think, just reacted. Stumbling, she turned and plunged her dagger into the bastard’s sternum. Andras reeled back in surprise, staring in disbelief at the obsidian blade in his chest. He staggered to the other end of the cavern. His form shimmered, but the glowing obsidian dagger in his chest kept him from flashing out.

  But dammit, she’d missed his heart. Echo shook her groggy head. Then an arm hauled her against a rock-hard chest. Breathing hard, she took in the scent of rainstorms. Aethan.

  Through their mind-link he said, ‘Go with Dagan. He’ll get you out of this place.’ Aethan handed her over to the warrior and then decapitated his way to Andras.

  Dagan grabbed her wrist, causing Echo to stumble as he hauled her to the cavern entrance. He swung his sword with one hand, clearing a path as he lopped off heads. One landed by her feet. Echo jerked back.

  A flash of white light filled the dark cave. She looked over her shoulder and her heart seized.

  Aethan’s fist punched through bone and flesh, straight into Andras’s chest. White light flowed down his arm and into Andras, incinerating the demonii’s body.

  Echo’s jaw fell open.

  The moment Andras’s body disintegrated into dust, the remaining demoniis scattered, leaving the cavern empty. Dagan let Echo go. She looked around unable to believe it was truly over.

  Andras was dead.

  “Don’t you listen?” Aethan growled as he came toward her, a scowl on his handsome face.

  She smiled, not caring he was annoyed. All she wanted was to feel his arms around her—for him just to hold her.

  A metallic click echoed in the silent cavern. Echo turned. Neal rose from behind the rock where he hid in the shadows, the gun in his hands aimed at Aethan.

  “No!” Her scream caught in her throat. She darted toward her mate, who leaped for her.

  A loud explosion filled the chamber.

  ***

  Kira paced the dusty concrete floor, stopping to pick off the ash-colored, spidery threads clinging to her clothes and hair. She turned to the two men standing on the other end of the crypt.

  “Why haven’t they come back yet?” she asked again. Not like she expected him to answer. He was as silent as this horrible place.

  Týr barely spared her a look, just stared at the steps leading up to the outside entrance. Almost as if he wished he was out there instead. She certainly rubbed him wrong but he made her feel like a frivolous airhead every time he looked at her. Jerk!

  Well, she didn’t care. He could go jump into the Hudson. Better yet, dive off Niagara Falls.

  At his sharp glance, she pivoted away from him, tugging at her loose braid. All that mattered was finding Echo. Another turn, she stomped back to them and saw Týr sitting on a stone ledge of a monument.

  “You’re sitting on someone—a dead someone,” she pointed out. “Have a little respect.”

  Toffee-brown eyes flared in irritation. “Would you keep quiet for one damn second? I can’t hear a damn thing.”

  “Of course, you can’t. We’re underground. Everything’s damn quiet.” Scowling, she continued her walk-a-thon across the corrugated stone floor.

  All she could think about was Echo. What if the demonii—no, no! She wasn’t going to scare herself with crappy thoughts. Tugging at her hair, she stopped in front of Blaéz. “Please, tell me what’s happening. Tell me something,” she begged.

  “He’ll get her out safe.” His gaze traveled over her face then settled on her hair. “Your hair is blue.”

  “What?” Oh crap. She inhaled deeply, forced her mind to relax, and changed it back to red. “What about the demonii?”

  Blaéz shrugged.

  Fine. If they wanted to sit here waiting, hoping for divine intervention, she wasn’t. She wheeled around and headed for the opening in the wall.

  “What the hell—”

  Týr’s snarl resounded off the tomb walls. He could go to hell if he thought she’d sit on her ass and wait. Kira sprinted into the dark, musty passageway. She’d find her friend and help her, like she always did.

  Heavy footsteps pounded behind her. Driven by a burst of adrenalin, she put a few precious feet between herself and her pursuers, only to stumble to a halt. Her heart jumped to her throat as a hard body slammed into hers. Arms grabbed her around the waist to steady her, the masculine scent of a cool night breeze informing her it was Blaéz. The dark shimmer
ing portal a few feet ahead, rooted her to the spot.

  “That’s a portal,” she whispered, her heart racing in terror.

  “That it is,” Blaéz said.

  The fact the two warriors hesitated to enter it surprised her.

  “Welcome to your worst nightmare,” Týr added.

  Christ, she really hated him.

  A blast reverberated from deep inside the caverns. The air shimmered. Someone grabbed her, and they jumped through the portal and into Hell.

  ***

  “No!” Aethan’s terrified roar resonated through the cavern, his heart shuddering in pain. He grabbed Echo as she staggered into his arms, a red stain spreading over the chest of her light blue sweater. “What did you do?”

  “The b–bullet—” She struggled to answer. “—made to kill you. Couldn’t let him...”

  He laid her on the floor and tore open her sweater. Blood gushed out of the hole in her chest saturating her bra. Frantically, he clamped a hand on the streaming wound and tried to stem the flow as he sent his senses into her body. Scanning her injury, he found where the bullet pierced her lung. It rapidly filled with blood. Her heart stuttered as it struggled to beat.

  “Damn you, Echo. Stay with me.”

  The blue healing light from him traveled through her body and coalesced at the puncture in her lung, but still it continued to bleed.

  She coughed. Blood trickled down the side of her mouth. “I’m so—c–cold—” she whispered. Her body jerked, going into shock. Her eyes glazed over as the glow in them dimmed.

  ‘Dammit, Michael!’ he shot through their telepathic link. ‘Where the fuck are you?’

  No answer.

  “Hang on. You have to hang on.” Aethan shrugged off his coat and covered her. “You are not leaving me. You hear me?”

  ‘So bossy,’ she said through their weakening mind-link. ‘Love you—always.’

  The anguish in him grew. “Gods, Echo!” he cried, as the vibrant light in his soul that was all her started to fade. Her eyelids closed.

  Michael appeared in a shower of silver sparks. He knelt beside Echo and took over the healing. A pure white light radiated from him and entered her.

  Echo lay motionless as he worked. The seconds turned to minutes. Then Michael dropped his hands. A sheen of perspiration covered his tanned face.

  Aethan stared in disbelief at Michael’s pained expression, his rage growing. Fuck him, if he gave up so easily. He sent his psychic energy back into her body, but her heart lay quiet.

  “No!” The sound of his voice thundered through the grotto, sending rocks crashing to the ground.

  Aethan wrapped her heart with his energy, his hand over her left breast. Using all the power in him, he shocked her. Her body convulsed off the floor then lay still.

  He tried again.

  And again.

  Someone touched his shoulder and muttered meaningless shit to him.

  He shrugged him off. Violence tore through him, his mind fracturing. The cave glowed brightly, his powers ricocheting off against the walls. Rocks broke off and rained around them. Nothing registered but the pain ravaging him, like being cleaved into half while his guts were ripped out.

  Through a haze of tears, he swept Echo’s body into his arms.

  “Dammit—what the hell are you doing?” Týr bellowed, grabbing his arm.

  Aethan shoved him aside. “If she has to die, then I’ll die with her!” The next minute a blinding flash lit the cave and he disappeared with his mate.

  CHAPTER 35

  Kira broke free of the horror that held her in its grip. Echo! Echo...her friend was dead. Her gaze fixed on Neal. She lunged for him but strong hands held her back.

  “Will you stop fighting me,” Týr snarled in her ear.

  “He killed her! He killed my best friend,” Kira cried, inhaling a choppy breath.

  Neal watched them with a smirk on his face, despite the fact that Dagan twisted his arms behind him. “I didn’t want her to die, but still she got what she deserved. Bitch thought she was too good for me,” he sneered. Then a sly look crossed his features. “By the way, how’s your grandma? The bump I gave her heal yet?”

  At the thought of him hurting Gran, too, Kira’s scream of rage filled the cavern. She tore free of Týr, grabbed the dagger off his belt and, like a whirlwind, lunged for Neal. And plunged the obsidian into his belly. “Rot in Hell, you bastard!”

  Neal stumbled back as Dagan released him. He glanced down at the dagger in his gut.

  “No,” he cried hoarsely. Pulling out the blade, he clutched at his bleeding stomach and staggered toward her. “I’ll kill you.”

  “Touch her and I’ll make you scream,” Týr said. He shoved Kira out of harm’s way. “Then I’ll make you wish for death.”

  Dagan grabbed Neal’s arms again. “Stupid human.”

  “What do you want done with him,” Týr asked Kira, removing his obsidian from Neal. He wiped it on his tee and slid it back into the sheath on his belt.

  “He wants to play with demoniis? Then leave him here to rot.”

  ***

  Aethan took form at the foot of the Catskill Mountains. A velvety dark sky surrounded them. He sat on a rock, Echo cradled in his arms, his coat covering her. He wanted to hold her for one last time before he joined her. He pressed his lips to hers. But at her cold, unresponsive mouth, his tears fell faster.

  “We never did have a chance, did we, me’morae? I can’t feel you anymore. It’s empty inside me. I’d give my life to look into your eyes again, but that’s not going to happen. I’m never going to see your smile...see you.”

  Brushing her hair off her face, he stared absently at his glowing hands. He just wanted a life with her. The time he’d had with her came down to a heartbeat in his life span—

  Michael appeared opposite him. “Don’t do it.”

  Aethan ignored him as the glow in him brightened. “I lived for three millennia in darkness and pain. Then I found Echo. My peace. My happiness. I refuse to live without her. Thank the Heavens, Michael, you never have to suffer the agony of having the one you love taken from you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like these last moments alone with my mate—”

  “Listen.” Michael’s eyes swirled with power so intense, Aethan stopped. “Listen,” he said softly again. Then the Archangel flashed out.

  What? Listen to what? All he cared to hear to was the sound of Echo’s laughter, her voice. He brushed his hand over her hair, then brought her cold fingers to his lips, and stiffened.

  His eyes narrowed, his hearing honing in...a faint sound tugged at him. He looked at Echo lying so still in his arms as hope fluttered back in his chest again.

  Oh, Gods, please.

  ***

  Echo awoke to unbelievable serenity embracing her. She had to be dreaming. She breathed in slowly, relieved to find the intense pain in her chest had disappeared, just intense warmth remained. This must be what peace felt like. Soft and tender, like a hug, it wrapped around her.

  She tried to swallow but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Water. She needed water. Pushing off the bed, she wobbled, then her legs gave way and, abruptly, she sat again. A sense of déjà vu flooded her.

  She glanced around, confused. Where was the familiar cascade of navy curtains and bank of windows? Instead, an enormous window dominated one wall, framing a picturesque view of several trees shrouded in pale yellow blossoms.

  The rather spartan room she’d slept in contained just a bed, flanked by a bedside table, on which stood a drinking glass and a single candle-stand.

  The rays of warm sunlight poured over her from the window, making the walls in the room glimmer, as if millions of tiny little stars were embed in them.

  Smoothing the material of the white T-shirt that hung down to her thighs, she stopped when she saw her hands. She was transparent. She could see right through her body.

  Her heart jolted. What the hell—

  Wait, if she could sit on a bed, she shouldn�
�t resemble an apparition, right? Jeez! She needed a pin. Surely, that would wake her from this dream—or nightmare.

  She snatched the candleholder from the bedside table. Next to it was a tall glass with pale green liquid inside it. She eyed it suspiciously. Definitely, not drinking that.

  Pulling the candle off the stand revealed the tiny stabilizing spike. She stabbed her finger with it.

  “Owww!” Crap! That hurt. She stuck her finger in her mouth. So why did she resemble a specter if she could still feel pain? Where the heck was she?

  “Ah, so you’re up?” an amused voice said.

  Her head snapped up. She barely noticed the loose black pants or the tunic he wore. The glow surrounding him was too intense, and she turned away to give her eyes a chance to recover. But the image of him remained.

  Tall, so tall. Incredibly stunning—it was as if a master artist had finely tuned the sculptured lines of his striking face. Black hair fell in a shimmer down his back merging with black wings that looked as if their tips were dipped in fallen snow.

  His silver-specked amethyst eyes blazed so brightly, they made the white walls around her look dull. “Go ahead, have your drink. It will nourish and heal you, then we can talk.”

  “Where am I?”

  “You should be resting until the healing is complete.”

  “I’m fine, nothing hurts.” She turned to him and squinted again. “Hey, can you dial yourself down? You’re damaging my retinas.”

  Instantly the glow dimmed, but his amusement rippled in her like a warm caress. Echo put mental brakes on that sensation. For some reason, it didn’t feel right being turned on by this angel.

  ‘I see why he fights for you.’

  She caught his passing thought and stared at him. “What? Who fights for me?” she demanded.

  He studied her for a long, silent moment, then said, “My name is Marmaroth.”

  She sighed. Why were men always so evasive? “Look, Roth, this is all very nice.” She waved her hand around the serene room. “But I want to go home.”

  “Ah. We are back to that, are we?” A glimmer of a smile touched his eyes, but his expression remained smooth and calm.