Darkness Awakened

by Stephanie Rowe

  He had no choice but to go solo.

  There was a sudden clang above his head, and he looked up quickly as Madison sucked in her breath. The hunters had pried off the wood and found the steel door.

  They were out of time.

  Knowing he couldn't risk a light, Ajax paused for a quick mental recon of the maze of pitch-black tunnels stretched out before them, deciding his path before he took the first step. He made sure Madison was secure on his back, then took off into the darkness, relying on memory alone to get them out of the labyrinth alive.

  Ashley Locke shivered in the dark woods, her thin tank top plastered to her body as the cold Oregon rain beat at her. She scraped her nails over the grime caked on her palms, desperate to get it off her skin, off her clothes, but it was so thick that the rain was useless against it.

  A cold hand clamped around her arm, and she recoiled as the hot breath of Charles Howell brushed over her cheek. "Get it right this time," he commanded. "I'm sick of getting cut because you can't hold an Illusion long enough for me to get in and out without facing resistance."

  His fingers dug into her bruised arm, and she flinched as he called out his serrated knife, unable to stop the swell of terror as he flashed the blade. Her Illusions reacted instantly to the threat, coursing through her body as they gathered strength to defend her.

  She scrunched her eyes shut, fighting desperately to control the energy, to keep it contained, even as it pressed against her skin, like a monster fighting to get out of its prison.

  "Oh, my little sweetness, are we going to have fun when this is over..." Charles moved the knife, trailing the edge of it over her breast. "You are a delightful perk I plan to make the most of once the hard work is done. You'll be my reward."

  "Once this is over, you'll be dead." Empty words, but she said them anyway, refusing to abandon the belief that somehow, someway, she could make them real. There was only one chance she had. Only one thread of hope. Madison, please be safe, but I need you. Oh, God, I need your help right now. Madison would be looking for her, searching for her, and Ashley's job was to survive until her sister found her.

  "Once this is over, I'll be far more powerful than you could ever imagine." Charles's lips brushed over her ear, his erection pressed against her hip. He flipped the knife around in his hand, and she recoiled, trying to shield her belly with her hand as he drew his hand back to slam the handle into her stomach—

  "No!" Her power surge was so hard and so staggering she screamed when it erupted out of her. The wind exploded around her, whipping through the trees as bright sunlight filled the dark woods, and suddenly they were in a meadow, and two young girls were skipping toward them, holding hands and singing.

  As if peaceful Illusions would save her. For the first time in her life, she hated her Illusions, resented that she couldn't create a dark Illusion deadly enough to kill Charles—

  No. She fought back the thought. I will not let him turn me into a monster.

  Charles grabbed her arm and dragged her through the woods toward a small cabin up ahead. As the Illusion grew stronger, a red-haired Calydon stepped out on the porch.

  Their next victim.

  She was hit with a sudden, visceral hatred for Charles, a black emotion of such violence she felt a tremor inside her, an awakening of something dark and malevolent. Her Illusion rippled like still water broken by a rock, and she felt a threat in the idyllic meadow she'd created, a shadow of foreboding—

  With a gasp of horror, she realized her Illusion was trying to shift into something evil, responding to her feelings about Charles. Dear God. Never. Never!

  She stumbled and the moment was gone, the Illusion burning brightly again with joy and happiness. She saw the Calydon up ahead staring up at the image, smiling at the girls, sucked in by the false reality that was filling him with a sense of calm and peace, overriding every instinct that would have alerted him to the threat bearing down on him. "It's a trap," she screamed, but their victim didn't even look at her, too caught in the distraction she'd created to snare him. "Don't—"

  "Shut the fuck up." Charles yanked her back, and she fell to her knees.

  She dropped her head and concentrated harder, thinking only about her sister, and how much she loved her. She let her heart expand with the knowledge that one person on this earth loved her unconditionally. As peace and love filled her, the Illusion that had been born of fear and self-defense flickered. Hope leapt into her heart. Was that enough? Could she really stop her own Illusions?

  The red-haired Calydon pulled his attention off the Illusion and began scanning the woods, as if he sensed there was a threat behind the magic scene he was witnessing. He called out his war hammer, his body ready.

  "Behind you!" she shouted, her voice raw.

  The Calydon cocked his head as if he thought he'd heard something, but he didn't move to defend himself.

  Ashley watched helplessly as Charles sprinted the last thirty yards, his knife raised to plunge it into the Calydon's throat. The warrior stood immobile, his back toward Charles, oblivious to the threat.

  "Turn around," she screamed again.

  The Calydon suddenly pivoted and swung his war hammer directly at Charles.

  It hit Charles in the chest, and Charles went down to his knees with a howl.

  Elation surged through Ashley, the joyous emotion wiping out the stress that had caused the Illusion. Her Illusion blinked out instantly, and the warrior lunged for Charles. Charles sprang to his feet, knife ready as the two warriors clashed.

  Ashley grabbed a tree and hauled herself to her feet and ran, the branches whipping at her face as she frantically shoved her way through the trees. She had to run. Charles would be compromised, if he even survived. She had to get as far away as she could—

  A hand grabbed her hair, and she was yanked backward. "Not so fast."

  Not Charles's voice.

  Someone else.

  Panicking, she fought the stranger's grip as he dragged her back toward the fight. She twisted around, trying to see who had her. He was tall, wearing a black duster, easily ignoring her struggles. His black sunglasses hid his eyes, but his face was angular and hard. His jaw was defined, his neck long and sinewy. He was corded violence and strength, not large and muscular like a Calydon.

  And he was rippling with power that prickled along her skin. An Illusionist.

  Holy shit. An Illusionist. The first one she'd ever met besides Madison and herself.

  He threw her to the ground as Charles slammed his knife into the throat of the Calydon, ending the battle.

  Shit.

  She'd failed. Ashley lay in the mud, too exhausted to stand, as she numbly watched Charles slice open the Calydon's forearms and pluck the weapons from his flesh.

  She let her head drop in despair, too drained, too beaten to hold herself upright anymore. I can't do this anymore.

  "This is what you brought me here to see?" the Illusionist asked. "A near failure?"

  "Reidar." Charles turned sharply. "You came."

  "I did." The man Charles had called Reidar walked over to the dead Calydon and stroked his finger along the ravaged arm, caressing the torn flesh as if it were a prize to be cherished, or a lover to be relished.

  "I wanted to show you that her Illusions aren't powerful enough against strong warriors." Charles held out his knife, there was a flash of black light, and then his hand was empty, his knife sheathed back in his forearm once again. "These meadow scenes won't be enough against the Order, and we need Ajax and Zion's weapons." He flipped a bloody hand at Ashley. "We need to bring in the sister. It's crap that you forced me to release her that night. I could have—"

  "I've been priming Madison for months, and her Illusions will be enough to take care of Ajax. You aren't needed on that project." Reidar's voice was firm, and Ashley struggled to lift her head at the mention of her sister.

  A cold dread slid down her back, as she realized that her kidnapping hadn't been a fluke of bad timing. She and Madis
on had been targeted from the first moment. How had he been priming Madison? How long had she and her sister been tracked?

  She shivered when she noticed Reidar was studying her. There was something about him that was far scarier than Charles. He had Charles's ruthlessness, and she could see the satisfaction on his face as he surveyed the gory scene. He was more than Charles, she realized. More deadly, but there was also something else. An intelligence that Charles didn't have. As scary as Charles was...this man was the one she needed to truly fear.

  She and Madison. Oh, God. Madison.

  "Viktor will deliver as well." Reidar walked over to Ashley, and she scrambled back when he reached for her.

  "Viktor?" Charles sounded skeptical as he shoved the harvested weapons into a sheath. "You've got Viktor working for you?"

  "I do."

  "You're sure? You couldn't get Faulk. What makes you think you can control Viktor?"

  "Viktor has a certain...vulnerability...that's making him an interesting experiment. He will become exactly the tool I want."

  "You're playing with him?" Charles shoved the sheath of weapons into a sling across his back. "Our only mission is to harvest the weapons. It's not about you adding to your cache of brainwashed Calydons."

  Reidar narrowed his eyes. "I'll use my team and my resources to make sure you get your weapons, exactly as you are paying me to do. The rest of my agenda is none of your business."

  "No?" Charles stalked toward Reidar, who stood taller, not backing down. "You cross me, and you'll be crushed. You have no concept of the power that we're about to unleash—"

  "Oh, but I do." Reidar leaned forward. "And I'm going to own it."

  Charles stared at Reidar for a moment, then barked with laughter. "Is that what this is about? You believe you can control Bezoar once we free him? Make him your biggest money-making rent-an-assassin? He'll destroy you."

  Reidar lifted one shoulder. "Believe what you will."

  Charles called out his knife and held it to Reidar's throat. "Don't even try to fuck with me. I don't need you that badly."

  "Oh, but you do." Reidar's voice was a whispered threat. "You need me."

  "Not as much as you need me." Charles's response was just as quiet.

  Reidar went still. "Where are you hiding Keira?"

  Ashley sat up. Who was Keira? Had Charles abducted another woman? Was she at the house Charles had been taking her to in between murder outings? Dear God, was there a chance she had an ally at Charles's house, trapped just like Ashley was?

  "You don't get Keira until I'm ready." Charles smiled. "Checkmate. I win."

  Reidar watched Charles as the Calydon turned away and began rifling through the dead warrior's belongings. "For now," he whispered. "For now. But when the time is right, I'll be ready."

  Charles ignored him, and Reidar turned to Ashley and pulled her to her feet. His touch was gentler than Charles's had been, and his long fingers cupped her chin as he studied her. He cocked his head, and Ashley was struck with a sudden sense of recognition, as if she knew him. From where? She frowned, searching her memory, but came up with nothing. Was he friend or enemy?

  "I felt it," Reidar whispered to her, his voice the soft caress of a lover. "I felt the darkness beneath the surface of that Illusion. You have it within you."

  She recoiled. "No. I don't. I'll never—"

  "You're almost there." His thumb stroked over her jaw. "I apologize for leaving you in Charles's hands, but he's the best at what he does. The moment your Illusions turn, I'll free you from him and make you mine."

  Ashley shuddered at the thought of belonging to this man, somehow knowing that life with him would be far worse than what she'd experienced with Charles.

  "No. You can't break me," she managed, her voice too shaky for the message she wanted to send him. "I won't turn dark." Involuntarily, her gaze slid to the dead warrior on the ground, his body shredded by Charles's knife. If she'd dealt that final deathblow herself with her Illusions...she would become a monster no better than Charles. Her legs started to shake, and her stomach lurched. "I won't do it," she whispered.

  Reidar merely smiled. "You will have no choice. And neither will your sister."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Madison clung to Ajax as he carried her through the dark tunnel. The air in the tunnel was cold and damp. His clothes were wet beneath her grip, and she knew it was his blood soaking through the cloth. Could he heal himself with the bullets still lodged in his body? How long could he go without taking them out?

  She heard a distant shout, and Ajax hesitated, then took a hard right, barreling through the maze of tunnels. He'd been running for hours, but he kept up a steady pace, his breathing even, his legs moving in a natural rhythm that seemed effortless.

  Ajax stopped twice to open steel doors and lock them again once they were through, and his pace finally began to slow to a lope after they were about a half-hour out from the second one. "You okay?" His deep voice was jarring in the silence of the tunnel, and the deep tones sent a shiver down Madison's spine. It was the first either of them had spoken since they'd left his cabin.

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "You can talk normally. They're far enough back." He veered left, jogged another few hundred yards, then stopped. "Here. Break time."

  She released him, sliding down his body to the ground. Her legs were trembling, and Ajax caught her around the waist to steady her when she landed. "Got it?"

  "Yep, I'm good."

  His hands lingered for a second, long enough for her to realize she was alone and isolated with a warrior who could strip her of her self-control with a single kiss.

  But then he released her, and she put her hand out to brace herself against the tunnel wall to keep her balance.

  She heard Ajax shut a third door, the click of metal closing nearly inaudible. "Where are we?"

  "Nearly seventy miles south of my place." There was a scraping sound, and a dim light flared in the tunnel. Ajax tossed a cord around his neck, and on the leather strip was a small pendant emanating a soft, golden light. It cast shadows over Ajax's face, making him look sculpted and beautiful, with shadows that hid his truth. "We're almost a hundred feet below ground."

  "A hundred feet?" She looked up at the ceiling, and saw it was thick mud, with sludge dripping down the sides. "Is it safe under here?"

  "It should be. It's been a long time since I've been down here, but it's well-built." He sat down, moving just stiffly enough to draw her attention back to the blood streaks on his clothes, and the bullet holes peppering his skin.

  "Oh, God." She almost reached out, needing to touch him, to give him comfort. "Doesn't that hurt?"

  He rifled through a backpack that was stashed beside the steel door. "I don't feel pain."

  She stared at him for a moment, then laughed warily. "Liar."

  He flashed her a quick grin as he pulled a pair of brutal-looking pliers out of the bag. "Hurts like a mother fucker, but I ignore it." He poked the tool into his forearm, whipping out a bullet before she could open her mouth to protest.

  Dear God. "How on earth do you ignore that?"

  There was a soft thud of a bullet hitting the ground.

  He removed another bullet, without so much as a flinch. "Mental discipline."

  "Mental discipline? I've been working on that for years, but clearly, you get the prize, not me." She averted her eyes to the wall behind him, unable to watch Ajax rip the bullets from his flesh. "Any tips?"

  He winked at her. "Got lots of tips."

  She blinked at the undercurrent to his voice. "Did you just flirt with me?"

  "I never flirt. Make a totally inappropriate sexual innuendo to distract you from the fact I'm digging bullets out of my arm? Yeah, I might have done that." He raised his brow. "Did it work?"

  She stared at him, then nodded. "Actually, it did."

  "Fantastic. Want more distractions?"

  "Um, no, I'm good." She cleared her throat. A part of her was curious to see w
hat this dangerous warrior would come up with to distract her, but at the same time, sexual innuendo with him was dangerous. Much too dangerous, given how intense her reaction was to him already.

  She pressed her lips together as she heard more bullets hit the ground. She looked at her watch and felt her stomach tighten when she saw it was now only thirty-six hours until she had to report in with Ajax's weapons. She couldn't stall anymore.

  She needed his commitment to help her, or she had to find a way to… do what? Kill him? Because that wasn't going to happen.

  Slowly, she turned to face him. His jaw was clenched, his gaze focused on his arm as he plucked out another bullet. His chest was heavily muscled, his biceps flexing as he worked on his injuries. His stomach was carved, his jeans slung tantalizingly low across his hips. Her heart began to pound, and she swallowed, suddenly terrified of what she would lose if she didn't protect herself from him.

  It was more than her physical response to him. It was the fact that he made her want things she couldn't have. The way she felt safe in his arms, almost as if she were safe enough to drop her shields and embrace every emotion running through her body. How he'd made her feel like his when Pete had wanted her to go with him and Ajax had refused.

  Safety. Belonging. Freedom to be who she was. Freedom from the danger of hurting him with an Illusion.

  Things she could never have.

  Ever.

  She couldn't afford dreams like that. People like her didn't get them. Her dream was to get that for her little sister, to give Ashley the life she deserved. It had been a mistake to keep Ashley with her. As soon as she found her sister, she would set her free to live the life she wanted.

  A life Madison could never join her in.

  A life Ashley couldn't have until Madison found her. And to do that, she needed Ajax's help. His commitment. "Ajax—" She stopped suddenly when she saw he was removing his pants. "What are you doing?"

  "Denim doesn't stop bullets." He dropped his jeans, giving her a full view of the magnificence that was Ajax. He was corded muscle, with chiseled abs, sculpted thighs, and—