Lazarus looked bored. “I now have the ability to hide objects in the space around me. It is here. Here.”
Eyes wide, Strider glanced around him, then patted the air around the warrior’s shoulders. He encountered only body heat, but he knew. It was here. So close he’d probably brushed against it during their conversation. His heart hammered against his ribs.
“Give it to me. Now,” he said. Then he recalled what Kaia had said to him, not so long ago, and he paused.
If he stole the Rod, she would be humiliated in front of her people. Except, while she’d been passed out and sick, writhing in pain from her injuries, she had babbled about stealing it herself. So he suspected she’d been planning to do so. For him. He should walk away—for her—but he couldn’t. Too many lives were at stake. He would find a way to make it up to her, he told himself. He would.
Black eyes became flat. “I…can’t.”
“Like hell. Pull it out of the goddamn air. Like you did that first night, during orientation.”
“I can’t,” Lazarus repeated.
“Why?” His voice lashed like lightning.
“Part of my soul is trapped inside the Rod. Physically I cannot do anything Juliette has forbidden me to do. I just can’t, no matter how hard I try. Believe me, I have tried. That is the only reason she entrusted me with the Rod’s care. And so I am to die before I allow the Rod to be taken from me.”
Strider withdrew a dagger from his ankle sheath. “I don’t want to fight you.”
A stubborn chin rose, reminding him of Kaia. “And I do not wish to fight you. I have considered this so many times I’ve lost count, and always the solution is the same. Juliette controls the Rod, and therefore controls me. She will never willingly part with either. I am her consort, and as I am sure you have learned, the Harpies do whatever is necessary to keep their consorts by their sides. Even if the impossible occurred and I managed to escape her a second time, she would never cease searching for me. I have decided I would rather die than help her in any way. I would rather die than make her happy. A decision you should support, since she wants me to seduce and hurt your woman.”
Dude was so not doing the seduction/hurting thing. “Just to be clear. You’re saying…”
“I am saying I have been used as a sex slave before. I will not be so used again. I am saying your woman once set me free, and I hurt her for it. I will not hurt her again. I am saying Juliette killed my mother. Now I will kill her dreams.”
Shock pounded through him. “You—”
“Want you to slay me. Yes. More than destroying Juliette, I cannot live as a slave any longer. I’ve spent too many centuries inside a cell, and now I’m supposed to while away the rest of eternity with a woman I despise? No! I crave freedom, even if I can find it only in death.” Lazarus dropped to his knees and tilted his head to the side, exposing the length of his vulnerable neck. “Do it. Before I change my mind.”
In that moment Strider realized he had never admired a being more. Self-sacrifice had never been a big part of his life, but here was Lazarus, giving up everything. Not for love, but for revenge, and that motive was a hell of a lot better.
If anyone deserved a second chance to live a long and happy life, he thought suddenly, it was this man.
Strider had done a lot of despicable things in the name of victory, done even worse as a consequence of the war with the Hunters, but this—putting a good man down—would top them all. In another life, they might have been friends.
“Death doesn’t have to be the end,” he said to make himself feel better.
He saw a spark of regret in the other man’s expression. “For me it will be. Much like you Lords would be incomplete without your demons, I am incomplete without the part of my soul that is trapped inside the Rod. When I die, the best I can hope for is that that part of me will wither and die, as well. As I’ve been led to understand, it is improbable to hope for the two pieces of my soul to unite and journey to heaven.”
“So basically what you’re saying is that you don’t know what will happen to you?”
A blink of bafflement. “Is that what you need to believe to do this deed? That there’s a chance for me to be happy in the afterlife? Because I must admit I am confused by your reluctance to end my life. I expected more from a fearsome Lord of the Underworld. Don’t make me challenge you for this, Lord of Defeat. Just do it. Set me free.”
He raised the blade higher, watched that pulse batter. His wrist twitched, but he remained exactly as he was.
Damn it. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t end this creature forever.
Lazarus must have sensed his waning determination. “Should I live, I will find a way to get your woman into my bed. Should Juliette live, she will kill your woman when I’m done with her. And that is only if she’s feeling generous, which she never is.
“The plan now, as I know it, is to finish the games, humiliating your woman with her many failures. And then, when she tires of the ridicule, Juliette will take Kaia’s free will, just as she has done to me. Kaia will be unable to stop herself from joining the Hunters under Juliette’s command. Oh, did I not tell you that part? Juliette will force Kaia to destroy you and all that you love. Do you understand what that means? You will be at war with your woman.”
Just like that, the decision to act solidified. Not because Kaia would come after him, but simply because Kaia’s happiness was everything to him, and she, too, deserved a second chance.
He would not let Juliette humiliate her. He would not let the bitch play with her mind, her emotions. And allowing Juliette to further screw with Lazarus, a guy who was noble enough to jump ship to save someone else? A guy who’d been hurt enough? Not going to happen.
“Thank you for your sacrifice. It will not be in vain. Juliette will be punished,” he vowed. “You have my word.”
“Thank you…friend.”
Strider struck.
CHAPTER THIRTY
A few minutes earlier…
HER TEAM MIGHT HAVE STARTED out at a disadvantage, Kaia thought, panting from exertion, but they’d certainly evened the odds. And quickly, too. Right now, only members of the Eagleshields and Skyhawks were still conscious.
At first, insults had been hurled at her. “Weak.” “Stupid.” “Bitch.” For once, they hadn’t distracted her. Maybe because she’d been locked on a single thought: save Strider from pain.
The man who hated being challenged had challenged himself. For her. If she’d harbored any doubts about his love, that would have convinced her.
She had to win this. For him. He’d threatened to kill anyone she did not defeat, but she knew he wouldn’t follow through with that one. He loved her too much to hurt a member of her race. So, if she failed, and then he failed to deliver punishment, would he experience twice the pain?
Win, win, win.
Oh, yes. Her strategy? Beat and run. She hadn’t let herself engage a single person. Well, no longer than it took to punch once—okay, sometimes twice. She’d struck, and then she’d moved on, never allowing herself to be surrounded. When more than one Harpy had converged on her, she’d simply moved out of the way and let them slam into each other. That had, of course, sent them into a fight of their own, effectively doing the work for her.
Their determination to end her, and her alone, was going to be their downfall. Fitting, she mused, swinging around to face her next opponent. When she spotted the Harpy, her anticipation withered.
Her mother.
Kaia’s throat dried. For the first time this round, sparks of heat lit up inside her. She’d been so careful.
Tabitha dropped the motionless body she held by the hair and faced off with her forgotten daughter. Around them, the battle continued to rage. Bianka noticed what was happening, though, and alerted the others. Soon Team Kaia was moving the rest of the females outward, giving Kaia and her mom a wide berth.
“At long last, the daughter I once spent an entire morning praising, telling my competitors that you would o
ne day be stronger even than me, only to find you’d nearly ruined us all,” Tabitha said. Her anticipation was palpable. “Finally you will be punished for that. I will put you in your place for the humiliation you caused.”
She’d spent an entire morning praising Kaia? Had claimed Kaia would be stronger? Don’t soften. That’s what she wants.
“And where is my place?” She had to be cold. This fight was necessary, and centuries in the making. Use might, not fire.
One seemingly delicate shoulder lifted in a shrug. “At my feet. Of course.”
At one time, that would have destroyed Kaia. Today, however, she experienced only the mildest twinge. She was loved, and by a man who didn’t love easily. He considered her worthy. That was enough. “You can try.”
“Oh, I’ll do more than that.”
Talk, talk, talk. Kaia waved her fingers, the fire beaten back. “We just gonna stand here or are we gonna do this?”
Surprisingly, Tabitha remained where she stood and arched a dark brow. “I’ll give you five seconds to run away, a chance I’ve never offered another. For old time’s sake, you could say. And Kaia, that’s the only handicap I’ll give you. After that, I will take your head.” She tossed a dagger in the air. A dagger already coated with blood.
“One,” Kaia said.
If she wasn’t mistaken—and she had to be mistaken—pride flickered in her mother’s amber eyes. “You’re weaponless. Do you really expect to win?”
“Two.”
Another flicker. “Trying to impress your man? Too bad he’s not up there. He disappeared several minutes ago.”
No reaction. She wouldn’t fall for such tactics. Wouldn’t be distracted from her purpose. “Three.”
The corners of Tabitha’s mouth quirked. “Do you recall when you were a girl and I spent hours training with you? I had you laid flat every time.”
No damn reaction. “Four.”
“All right. No more conversation.” Tabitha threw her gaze at the crowd. “No one is to interrupt us. Is that clear?” With that, she assumed a battle stance, her legs apart, her knees bent and her arms at the ready. “It’s just you and me now, daughter.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Five.”
They flew at each other.
Tabitha hadn’t earned the name “Vicious” for nothing, and slashed at Kaia the moment they were within striking distance. They were too close for her to avoid being hit and Kaia knew it, cursing herself for expecting her mother to try and get her on the ground first. So she did the only thing she could. She lifted her arms, allowing the blade to slash at her forearms rather than her neck or her chest. As the sharp pain tore through her, skin splitting open, her mother struck again, lightning fast, aiming for her stomach this time.
Kaia counterattacked. She caught Tabitha’s hand midway, gripping her wrist in her elbow and twisting up, using the momentum to her advantage. When their arms reached shoulder level, she pressed Tabitha’s wrist and the blade against herself and punched her mother in the temple with her free hand. She could have used the flat of her other hand to bat at the dagger and send it flying, but better to strike now, while she had the chance, than to remove the weapon from her mother’s possession.
Why fight as if they had forever when she could do something to end things now?
Tabitha stumbled from the impact and dizzily dropped to her knees. Of course, she regained her footing in the few seconds it took Kaia to close the distance between them. Before she could strike, Tabitha spun, avoiding contact. Then, within a blink, Kaia was struck from behind. In the skull. She staggered, thinking fast. Knowing her mother as she did, she was sure the woman would fly at her, try to push her to the ground, cutting her neck while her weight smashed her wings. Only one way to combat that. Kaia used those staggering steps to push off and back flip.
Below her, for less than a blink, she saw the top of Tabitha’s dark head. Saw that she’d been right. Saw Tabitha stop, realizing she wouldn’t be winning so easily. Then Kaia landed and kicked out, aiming for her mother’s kidney. Score.
Grunting, Tabitha fell to her knees. Kaia kicked again—no mercy—aiming for those fluttering wings. Boom. Her mother’s body was flung forward, the cartilage in the right wing snapping on impact. Again, the entire action happened so quickly, anyone watching would have missed it if they’d blinked.
That should have slowed her mother down, but Tabitha had about a million years on her and had fought with a broken wing before. Seemingly impervious to the pain she must be feeling, the woman rolled, stood, turned.
“That all you got, baby?” Tabitha was smiling, but there was blood on her teeth.
Cold. Merciless. “Let’s find out.”
Once again they launched at each other, meeting in the middle. There was a flurry of punching and blocking. Cold, stay cold. With every shot of her mother’s left arm, the dagger she held made a play for Kaia’s jugular. Kaia was nicked a few times, but the blade never sank deep enough to do much damage. And that wasn’t because her mother pulled her blows! Kaia had skills even she hadn’t known about.
Tabitha currently had the lead, pushing Kaia backward. She held her own—cold, cold, so cold, tamping down any new flickers of heat that tried to spring from her—until she tripped over an unconscious body. Down, down she fell. Tabitha was on her in an instant.
When the dagger arced toward her, she knew there was only one way to save her neck. And her life. That dagger needed a target. She met the metal with the palm of her hand, allowing the tip to spear her flesh all the way through, going in one side and coming out the other. Hurt like a son of a bitch, but it was totally worth it. Even though her bone was splintered, the dagger was stuck between the pieces and Tabitha drew back an empty hand.
That didn’t stop her. Fist after fist battered at Kaia’s face so swiftly she couldn’t avoid them and she was almost knocked senseless. Still she remained cold and finally gathered the strength to roll backward, to her shoulder blades, scooting her mother off her stomach and allowing Kaia to swing her legs.
She locked her ankles around Tabitha’s neck and jerked down. The woman fell to her back and lost a lungful of oxygen. Or would have, if Kaia hadn’t jammed the heels of her boots into her mother’s throat, crushing her wind-pipe and preventing the air from escaping.
Without a pause, Kaia stood, her field of vision shit as blood dripped into her swollen eyes. End this. With all of her might, she jerked the dagger from her palm—and damn, it hurt worse coming out than going in!—then tossed the weapon out of the circle. Now they were both unarmed.
She stalked forward, hoping she would be on her mother before the practiced soldier had time to heal or strategize. That didn’t work out for her. Tabitha was on her feet in an instant and they were facing off for the third time, circling each other.
“Bravo for you,” Tabitha rasped, voice broken thanks to her still-healing trachea. “I expected you to fold long before now.”
“That’s because you think too highly of yourself and too little of those around you.”
“With good reason.” Emotionless.
I will make her feel something. Kaia licked her lips, tasted copper. “Mother of the Year Award, meet Tabitha the Vicious. Or not. But don’t feel bad. I took Father’s away, too.”
Tabitha stilled, blinking, those lids hiding and revealing distress. “I’m a good mother.”
Uh, what? That had struck a nerve? “If by good you mean you’re the world’s worst, then yeah, you’re at the top of the list.”
Amber eyes narrowed, the distress vanishing. “When you’re dead, another Harpy will take possession of your man. You know that, don’t you? And as your conqueror, I’ll have first rights.”
Ouch. Going for the jugular with words now, too, trying to elicit an emotional response. As Strider had said, Kaia was all about her emotions. She could feel the fire springing back to life inside her, heating…heating…
She could release the flames, end things now. They’d fought. There’d
be no crying foul now. Kaia had held her own, but though there was no love lost between mother and daughter, she didn’t want to burn the woman to death.
What she wanted didn’t matter, however. Not now. Do what you gotta do to survive, Strider had told her.
It was time.
Finally she opened her mind to the heat, welcoming it, letting it grow, spread—consume.
Hotter…hotter… She didn’t know what to expect. Last time, the change had come over her so unexpectedly, she hadn’t had a second to stop and think about what was happening. What would she do if the flames refused to come?
Shock clouded her mother’s expression. There was a roar in Kaia’s ears, her body hotter, hotter, then all she could see was a cerulean haze. In less than a heartbeat, the flames had coiled from her pores, catching every inch of her in a raging inferno. Even her clothes burned away.
“Sorry about this, Mom,” she said. She leapt, closing the distance between them. Contact. They fell to the ground. Flames jumped from Kaia to Tabitha. She paused, waiting.
Where were her mother’s screams?
“You really think I would have slept with a Phoenix if I wasn’t protected against his fire? But I’m impressed. You fooled me. I had no idea you were capable of this.”
“I—I—” Had no response. Was too stunned.
Tabitha went on, “I can’t summon the flames, but I can withstand them. So, fight on.”
Once again Kaia was rolled to her back and punched over and over again. This she allowed, more from her own sense of astonishment than an inability to fend her mother off.
When her senses crystallized back into focus, she stopped trying to protect her face and neck. There was only one way to end this.
The punches continued to descend. As sharp pain exploded through her, her eyesight soon obliterated, her throat soon crushed—and knowing claws were coming next, and with them, the loss of her head—the heat was replaced by a return of her cold determination.
The Darkest Surrender (Hqn) Page 35