Darkness Arisen

by Stephanie Rowe

  Alice gritted her teeth as she leapt up on him. His strong arms pulled her legs around his hips, and she locked her arms around his neck. “Make sure you don’t let go,” he said.

  She tightened her grip and tucked her head against the curve of his neck. “What are you going to do?”

  “Jump.”

  “Jump?” She couldn’t keep the squeak of fear out of her voice. “Jump where?”

  “Through the flames. I can smell soil on the other side.” He backed up two steps to the edge of their mound of turf, enfolding her in his iron grip. “I can make it.”

  The flames were a good thirty yards away, and she had no idea how thick they were. How long could he stay airborne? And would the earth disintegrate when they landed? “Um, Ian? I don’t think this is a good idea—”

  “Let’s go!” His body flexed beneath hers, and she felt power coil through him.

  And then he leapt, straight into the fire.

  *

  The flames were hot, scorching Ian’s skin, tearing at his flesh. He kept Alice cradled to him as they crashed through burning branches that whipped at his face. Swearing, he turned his body in the air so that his shoulders took the brunt of the impact, blocking the flaming whips from Alice’s flesh.

  He began to lose altitude, falling back down toward the ground, but they weren’t through the flames yet. He needed more air time! He lunged for one of the burning branches. His palm was instantly fried as he grabbed it. He swung off it, flinging them further though the flames. “Come on!” he bellowed as he grabbed another one, and another, his skin melting from the heat as he swung them forward through the branches.

  His muscles were screaming with pain as more branches lashed at him, tearing at his flesh, and still he went on. He couldn’t let Alice fall. He couldn’t let her down. He had to make it. Again and again, he grabbed for branches, hurling himself to the next one while Alice clung to him.

  His hand slipped off a branch and he lunged for another one, but his fingers slid off that one as well. He knew that his hands were too burned to work. That he’d destroyed them. “No!” he yelled as he grabbed one more branch and flung them forward with every last bit of his strength.

  They careened through the air, and suddenly the flames were gone. Fresh cool air gifted their lungs, and he cradled Alice as they plunged to the earth. He took the impact when they landed, using his body to protect her as they rolled across the bumpy earth.

  Finally, they came to a stop, and Ian released her with a groan of pain. He struggled to his feet, shouting in pain as he called out his mace and the handle slammed into his palm. But he didn’t relax, spinning around to assess their situation, needing to assure himself that they were safe before he went down.

  They were in a pasture, filled with grass that seemed to undulate on its own and flowers that sparkled with mist that they shouldn’t have. But he sensed no threats. No dangers. It was safe, for a moment at least.

  He dropped to his knees, releasing the mace, fighting for consciousness as the pain raged through him. Never had he felt such agony. It was tearing at him, not just his hands, but through every cell of his body.

  “Ian!” Alice knelt before him, her cool hands like a gift of salvation on his skin. “Are you okay?”

  Ian lifted his head and was shocked to see Alice was untouched. Her skin was unmarred, and even her clothes were pristine. He blinked, certain he’d seen wrong, but when he looked again, she was the same. Her green eyes were focused on his, full of fear and worry. “You’re okay?” he rasped out.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Her face grew darker with worry. “But you’re not.”

  “No.” His stomach began to contort with pain and he went down on the ground, fighting to stay conscious. “What’s going on?”

  Alice rolled him onto his back, her hands moving over his skin. “Oh, God, Ian. This is bad.”

  “You know what it is? Black magic?” But it didn’t feel like black magic. It felt like he was dying from the inside out.

  “No,” she said. “It’s Catherine. That was her trap. That’s why it didn’t hurt me. Her power doesn’t work against me. We cancel each other out.”

  “Catherine?” He struggled to open his eyes, but his vision was streaked with patches of red and black. “What the hell is she? An angel of death?”

  “Yes,” Alice said. “And she just targeted you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Panic hit Alice as she watched the black taint spread across Ian’s skin. It was moving fast, faster than he could heal. Of course it was. It was death.

  Alice leapt to her feet, spinning around as she shouted at the idyllic setting. “Catherine,” she screamed. “Stop it!” Her voice echoed and bounced across the fields, but there was no reply. Of course there was no reply. That was why she had to kill the woman who was so close to her that she might as well have been her sister.

  “Dammit!” Alice fell to her knees beside Ian, her stomach churning when she saw the necrosis moving over his skin. Dear God, he was rotting alive. “Ian!”

  His eyes were closed, and his lungs were rasping with each labored breath. “Now’s the time,” he rasped out. “Now or never, babe.”

  “Now or never, what?” She was horrified by the sight of his hands. They’d been incinerated by the tainted flames, and now were crumbling, rotting flesh, contaminating his arms. “Oh, God,” she whispered.

  “Angel of life,” he managed.

  “What?” She jerked her eyes toward him. “I can’t save you!”

  “If you’re assigned to the Order, you’re wrong,” he said. “You can save me.”

  “Save you?” God, if there was a way, if there was a way. Frantic, she pressed her hands to his chest, reaching through their bond to connect with him. He was wide open to her, and she immediately found herself deeply merged with him. She could feel his guilt and grief, but she was astonished by the sheer, raw determination pulsing through him. She knew now why he was the only one of his family still alive: he was too damned stubborn to die. Until now. No one could stop the angel of death.

  As immortal as he was, he was no match for Catherine. No one was.

  No one except an angel of life. His voice was raw and painful in her mind. Come on, Alice.

  I’m trying! She could feel the blackness spreading through him, but she had no idea how to stop it. What do I do?

  You’re the angel. You— He stuttered with pain, and his body convulsed. —decide.

  Me? Sweat broke out on her forehead, and tears burned in her eyes. I don’t know what to do!

  What do other angels do?

  Alice frantically thought back to the angel compound she’d grown up in, trying to remember what the other angels had done when they’d tried to call upon their supernatural powers, something she’d never come close to figuring out how to do. Every time she’d been thwarted in trying to save someone’s life, she’d been attempting an easy, obvious solution, like giving her mother dirt or Chloe a kiss. The answer had been obvious; she just hadn’t been able to do it. But now? He was being poisoned by the angel of death. There was no easy antidote to that!

  Alice, Ian gasped. Now, sweetheart.

  Don’t pressure me! Tears burning her eyes, Alice tried to quiet her mind and her spirit. She reached inside herself, trying to find the inner glow that Catherine always talked about, the place of quiet that was the source of her powers. But she couldn’t find anything. There was just fear, anger, and guilt. A miasma of churning emotions that made it impossible for her to focus.

  Ian’s body jerked, and she grabbed his shoulders. Mom, she beseeched, reaching out to the heavens, if you’re out there somewhere, show me what to do! Show me how to save him!

  She held her breath, waiting, but of course, there was no response, no great illumination of knowledge filling her mind. Just the same agony, the terror as she felt Ian’s life force fading. No! She screamed, suddenly so angry that her mother had died. That she’d blamed Alice. That she’d left her alone. I
hate that you left me! I hate you! The violent emotion tore through her, the fury and anger at being abandoned and rejected by her mother. Years of dark feelings erupted, and tears poured from her, so much pain, so much agony, and so much sadness. It rolled over her, like the darkest of hells, filling her with more than she’d ever felt before. It was too much, too overwhelming, and she cried from the force of it all.

  Ian’s hand moved, and his fingers entwined with hers. I knew you had it in you, he said. I knew you were more than a reserved shell. His warmth filled her, seeping through all the agony trying to consume her, and she lunged for it, holding onto it so desperately.

  I don’t know what to do, Ian. I don’t know how to help you.

  Ian’s energy and his spirit began to fade, and she knew she was losing. If you were part of the Order’s trinity, you’d know what to do to save me. I thought you were my angel…

  There was a sudden hum in the air, and Alice spun around. The air was becoming translucent about ten feet away. Oh, God. Flynn? He was too early. Alice immediately called out Ian’s mace, and she leapt in front of him, clenching her hands around the handle, putting herself between him and whatever threat was coming. Ian! Don’t die! Please hang on!

  The air seemed to shimmer and darken, and then three warriors appeared. Ryland and Vaughn, the men who had been at the beach with Ian, plus Kane Santiago, who had appeared at the last moment to transport them out of there.

  Were they here to take Ian back? To kidnap her? “Stop,” she shouted, holding out the mace. “Don’t come near here!”

  Ryland’s eyes went black with rage, and there was so much taint rolling off him she could actually see a muddy black and brown aura forming around him. His gaze went past her to Ian, who was writhing on the ground, and he let out a roar of outrage. “What did you do to him?” He called out his machete, and hurled it at her as he sprinted toward them.

  Kane shouted at him to stop, but Ry didn’t hesitate. Alice yelped, and swung the mace. To her shock, it seemed to take on its own power, and it crashed into Ryland’s machete inches from her face. The shock of the impact threw her back, and she fell to the ground next to Ian. Ry reached her just as she landed, and he called out his other machete, his face twisted with rage. “You killed him!”

  “Stop it!” Kane suddenly materialized next to Ry, grabbed him and teleported him away, reforming at the other side of the field.

  Ryland let out a roar of rage. A black light flashed, and suddenly Kane was down on the ground and Ry was racing toward her again, thick black and purple steam rolling off him. Dear God. He was insane!

  Alice leapt to her feet, and grabbed Ian’s mace, moving between Ry and Ian. “Stop it!” she shouted. “Ian’s dying, and he needs your help! I didn’t kill him! I’m an angel of life! I don’t kill people!” But even as she shouted the words, she remembered how Esmeralda had fallen to Ian’s weapon while she’d wielded it. She did kill people. For a split second, she hesitated, and then fury raced through her.

  She was tired of being an angel of life who got it all wrong, the one who couldn’t help those she cared about! “Ryland, stop!” she screamed. “Don’t be a fool! I need your help!”

  But Ryland was enraged, his sanity torn to shreds at the sight of Ian dying. There was no way to stop him. “Dear God,” she whispered in horror, watching as he bore down on her. “He’s gone mad.” She raised the mace, preparing to fight him, afraid he would accidentally kill Ian in his rage. “Get away from him,” she shouted, but even as she said the words, Ry put on a burst of speed—

  Vaughn stepped in front of her, into Ryland’s path. He held out his hands, spread his palms, and raised his hands to the sky. His skin began to glow green, and the earth began to tremble and bubble below his feet. Lightning cracked across the sky, and dark purple clouds surged above their heads, cutting out the sunshine. The muscles across his back twitched and spasmed, and his skin began to undulate as if the very gods themselves were coming to life within him. “Stop!” he commanded, and his voice seemed to thunder through the pasture. He held his hands so that his palms faced Ryland, but the warrior didn’t slow down.

  Alice caught her breath as Ry neared Vaughn, neither warrior backing down. Ry raised his machete. “Get out of my way—”

  Vaughn shoved his palms in Ryland’s direction, as if pushing an invisible barrier at him. The Calydon was flung backwards with a violent explosion, his body twisting and contorting as he sailed through the air.

  He slammed into a pile of rocks and didn’t move.

  Vaughn went down on his knees, his whole body shuddering from the force of what he’d done. To Alice’s shock, he actually faded from sight, and then reappeared again, as if he were losing his solid form. Stunned, she gripped the mace tighter, not sure who was friend and who was foe now. Behind her, she could hear Ian’s labored breathing, and panic began to hammer at her. “Someone help Ian,” she shouted. “He’s dying!”

  Vaughn turned toward her. His eyes had the faintest glow of green around the edges, and his muscles were straining against his skin. The tendons in his neck were bulging, as if he was fighting to stay in control. She braced herself, waiting for him to turn it on her as well. But he didn’t. Before her eyes, he seemed to suck all that power back into his body. The earth stopped moving, the sky cleared, and his eyes returned to a dark brown. The only sign that he’d just blown Ryland across the clearing was the fact that a faint green glow emanated from his palms. “You called,” he said.

  Alice blinked. “What?”

  “You called Flynn. I heard it.” He looked past her, searching the woods, where the flames were beginning to fade. “He’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t have missed your call either.” Vaughn’s eyes were hooded and dark as he looked at her, troubled, even. “Why would you call him? He wants to kill you.”

  Alice raised her chin. “I know he does. That’s why I called him.”

  “You want him to kill you?” At her nod, Vaughn narrowed his eyes. “You’re a woman of courage.”

  She was so surprised by the statement, that she wasn’t sure how to respond. “I’m not—”

  “You are.” Vaughn strode forward, and laid his hand on her cheek. His hand was cold, ice cold, as if he’d drained himself of all life during his attack on Ryland. For a moment, she thought he was going to say something, then he turned and walked away, his body moving with lithe, predatory grace as he blended in with his surroundings, disappearing in plain sight. What in heaven’s name was he?

  Before she could ask, sharp pain began to resonate through her arm. She looked down and saw an angry dark line cutting through the brand on her arm, filling in the outline even further. She tensed as she watched it form. Another stage of the bond? What had she done?

  “You satisfied your half of the death stage when you risked your life to save his by jumping in Ryland’s path,” Kane said, startling her when he spoke from right behind her shoulder. His voice was heavy with respect. “You’re a crazy woman, aren’t you? No one in their right mind would stand in front of Ry when he has snapped.” He sounded impressed, and it almost made her smile. “Ian’s lucky he’s got you. The bond is almost complete. How many stages do you have left?”

  “His half of both the trust stage and the death stage. That’s it.” Two half stages away. So close to the Calydon destiny that would destroy them. As lovely as it was to have Kane’s warmth and approval directed at her after a lifetime of being on the outside, Alice knew it wouldn’t matter, not if Ian died. She jerked her arm down, fighting off the mixture of emotions arising from seeing Ian’s mark on her arm: satisfaction, fear, uncertainty. “Can you help him? He’s dying.”

  Kane strode over to him and crouched down. “Save him.”

  “I tried.” She hurried over and knelt beside him, taking Ian’s hand between hers. “I can’t.”

  There was a grunt, and she looked up as Ryland rolled to his knees. He was bracing his hands on the ground, his head bowed. She tensed, but he raised his head, and sh
e saw that the poisonous aura around him had faded. It was still there ever so slightly, but it no longer controlled him. “Ian,” he rasped out as he stumbled to his feet.

  This time, no one stopped him as he sprinted across the clearing, falling to his knees beside Ian, whose skin was now mottled with black and purple that was creeping up his neck, dotting his cheeks. It had almost consumed him. Once it covered him, it would be the end.

  “Son of a bitch,” Ryland said. He looked at Alice, his eyes simmering with rage. “Save him,” he demanded.

  “I can’t—”

  “You can!” He lunged for her, grabbing her by the throat before Kane could stop him. His fingers were tight, but not hurting, not yet. “You’re an angel of life. You’re the angel of life that protects the Order. It’s your job!”

  “I tried,” she shouted, screaming at him. “Nothing works!”

  “Son of a bitch,” Kane said. “He’s not Order right now. That’s why. Quinn and Gideon suspended him when he took off with you.”

  Alice’s stomach dropped. “You actually expelled him? How could you do that?” The one thing that mattered to Ian was the Order and honoring his oath, and yet he’d lost that? Ian convulsed, and she felt a stab of pain from him. Quickly, she put her hand on his forehead, trying to comfort him. I believe in you, Ian.

  He didn’t respond.

  Ryland’s eyes glittered. “Ian betrayed the Order. There was no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” she snapped.

  “Is there? Then choose to save him,” Ryland said.

  “I can’t!”

  Disgust flared in Ryland’s eyes, disappointment so bitter that she felt it in her own heart. When she’d first met Ryland, he’d gone down on one knee to honor her. Now? He looked like she wasn’t worth the effort of saying her name.

  “Shit!” Ryland released her with such force she fell back. “We need to reinstate him. Right now.”

  Kane shook his head. “We don’t have time for an entire ceremony. There’s no way to do it that fast. He’s dying right now.”