The Redemption Series

by Melynda Price

  Chuckling triumphantly, Liam slipped his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her up as he bent his head and growled, “Not a chance, sweetheart.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  As he set the last stone upon her unmarked grave, so he buried his will to live. Gone was the desire to draw breath. Pain seared his lungs as they expanded again and again, becoming a continuous source of fiery torment competing with the agony in his soul. If he could just will his stubborn heart to stop beating, then all this suffering would finally be over.

  All was lost. Anya was dead. Tortured and brutally killed at the order of his father. An evil, sadistic bastard, he’d willingly served, willingly killed for since he was old enough to wield a blade.

  He’d failed…failed her…failed his unborn son… Had she cursed him in the throes of death?—calling him a liar as Taggert held her down and violated her fragile broken body? Had his promise to protect her, to keep her safe, been running through her mind as that bastard’s blade sliced through her throat?

  It mattered not that he’d hunted Taggert and his legion of demons down, torturing them until they’d confessed every last heinous detail of Anya’s death. It was the least he could do. She had to endure it—it was only right that he lived with the knowledge of her suffering—of his failure.

  Perhaps this was his punishment—punishment for all the lives he’d taken, all the times he’d thoughtlessly killed in service to the Dark Court. Perhaps this was truly hell—not a place of eternal suffering as believed, but a state of unending emotional torment. If that was the case, then surely Haden was here and there was truly no hope for him.

  Haden unsheathed his dagger, the same blade he’d used to castrate Taggert and gut the bastard, stem to stern, before strangling him with his own entrails. With dagger in hand, he aimed the hilt toward Anya’s grave and drove it into the rocks, burying the handle. Bracing his hands against the stones, he slowly rose to stand, preparing to cast himself upon his blade.

  At the last moment, in one final act of desperation, he knelt upon the dry, barren earth and lifted his blistered, torn hands up to the heavens, praying to a God, who’d never loved him—certainly could never forgive him—and pleaded not for his eternal soul, but for Anya’s to be spared. Perhaps in death, he could give her the protection he’d failed to give her in life.

  He tensed to rise and cast himself upon Anya’s grave and the dagger that would end his suffering…

  “Haden, stop.”

  He turned his head and saw Olivia standing behind him, dressed in a sheer scarf gown, the breeze tousling her raven locks behind her. The thin material was layered, but not so much that he couldn’t see the outline of her long slender legs, her narrow hips, or the dusky pink of her beaded nipples. His body began to stir to life and rage instantly boiled up inside him.

  What the hell was she doing? She didn’t belong here. This part of his life was private—sacred. Here he belonged to Anya, and the shame of his betrayal tasted like bitter poison, making the words from his mouth just as venomous. “Get the fuck out of here, Olivia!”

  She flinched, and the wounded look on her beautiful face sucker-punched him. The air fled from his lungs and refused to enter again. He should be thankful. Hadn’t that sudden absence of breath been exactly what he’d wanted? Perhaps, but his heart rioting inside his chest negated any relief he might have received from the cessation of breathing.

  “I can’t go. You called me here.”

  “I assure you, I did not. Now leave. This has nothing to do with you,” he growled.

  “You’re wrong, Haden. If you do this, if you die, so will I.” Her hand dropped protectively to her belly. “And so will my baby.”

  His gaze followed, resting upon her stomach, now heavy with child. Suddenly, pain exploded inside his chest. Fuck… What in the hell was that?

  Tears filled her eyes, emerald pools imploring him to breathe. “You have to fight, Haden. Please! You can’t give up.”

  Another invisible blow landed in his chest. If he could only see them coming, he might stand a chance of fighting them off. But this one dropped him to the ground and he was sure a rib or two broke on impact. He rolled onto his back and lifted his hand, splinting his side so he could take that damning breath he knew he’d regret, and felt moisture against his palm. Pulling his hand away, he looked down at his crimson-coated fingers and then glanced up at Olivia in confusion, her tears stealing the air he needed to speak.

  “Getup!” she pleaded. “You have to get up! Get the fuck up!” Immediately, another blow landed into his ribs. He tried to draw breath, but it felt like he was breathing underwater and began to cough. Goddamn if that wasn’t a mistake. His chest was on fire, each wracking spasm was driving his rib deeper and deeper into his lung.

  “You know Gahn’s going to be pissed if you kill him before he gets back.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Tyber, or you’re next.”

  Lotus…Bloody hell…

  He’d know that gravely snarl anywhere. He also knew that if he didn’t figure out a way to get his ass up off this floor, the bastard was going to fist-pound him back into oblivion. Lotus was an evil son of a bitch with an ax to grind. He’d always been an asshole, beating up on Haden when he was younger, smaller, and too damn inexperienced to know how to defend himself.

  He’d gone to Gahn for help as a child, not knowing what to do, erroneously expecting his father to give a shit. To the plea, Gahn cuffed him upside the head and said, “You don’t like it, boy, then kill him.” That hadn’t been the help or advice a tender youth of seven was looking for, and that had been the last time he’d gone to Gahn for anything.

  By the time he’d hit twelve, the beatings were occurring daily. Luckily, Haden had convinced Tyber, his father’s second in command, to teach him how to defend himself. The demon must have taken pity on him, or perhaps he just hated Lotus as much as Haden did, but at any rate, he’d begun, in secret, teaching him how to fight. Nightly, Haden fell asleep dreaming of the day he’d kill Lotus.

  Four years passed—four more years of busted lips, blackened eyes, and broken bones. And then one day Haden finally snapped. At sixteen, he’d finally begun to grow into himself, but he was still thin and lanky. Lotus easily had thirty pounds on him, and centuries of experience as a seasoned warrior. But none of that mattered the day he passed Haden in the bailey and threw an elbow into his ribs. Haden felt the snap of bone. Instantly, his lungs caught fire, sending a burning pain searing through his chest. The demon hadn’t expected him to retaliate. Perhaps that’s what gave Haden, the initial advantage in what turned out to be a knock-down, drag-out fight.

  When it was over, and he’d held the edge of his dagger against Lotus’ throat, demanding he yield or die, the murderous fury burning in his eyes had promised Haden he’d earned an enemy for life. Yet, Haden had never killed before, and he just couldn’t bring himself to take the demon’s life—even if it were a life as worthless as Lotus.' As he stumbled toward the castle, barely able to carry his own weight, Haden glanced up at the entrance to find Gahn standing on the steps.

  He’d expected to see some sort of pride on his father’s face, or at least a gallant nod of approval—something—anything. Instead, as he climbed the steps and passed the demon, Gahn reached out and snagged Haden’s arm, sharp nails biting into his bruised, torn flesh, and growled, “Mercy is for the weak, boy. You should have killed him.”

  Haden’s humanity died that day—and from that day forward, he’d vowed to become the monster his father had raised him to be. And so he had. He’d played the part well, right up until that moment he’d hunted down Anya and fell hopelessly in love with her.

  Six months…for six short months in his miserably long existence, he’d finally known love, acceptance, and true happiness. Every day before that, and every day after, his life had been a living hell.

  Wham! Lotus’ fist connected with Haden’s jaw and his head cracked against the dirt-packed ground. Pain exploded behind his eyes and he gr
ound his teeth together, biting back the groan of agony. His pulse thundered in his ears, muffling Tyber’s snarled curse from the cell beside him.

  “Lotus, you sadistic fuck! When I get out of here, I vow to the Almighty I’ll see you dead for this!”

  Footsteps moved away, and Haden forced his head up, opening his eyes through swollen slits to see Lotus turning his wrath on Tyber.

  “I don’t give a fuck who you swear to. Your threats don’t mean shit because you’re not getting out of there, asshole.” Cranking back a meaty fist, Lotus plowed it into Tyber’s jaw. The demon’s head slammed back, cracking against the wall. Tyber’s chains and the torc around his throat were the only things keeping him upright.

  Fuck, they were in trouble. Haden knew he had to get up. He couldn’t keep lying here or he was good as dead. His mind swam in a sea of pain, dully racing for options to escape, and he had to be honest, none of them was looking very promising right now. The temptation to accept defeat and embrace his fate was difficult to resist. Death courted him, an elusive lover he’d been chasing ever since putting Anya into the ground. But Olivia’s voice continued to echo in his mind, the warning in his dream crying out as clear as if she stood here beside him right now. “If you die, so will I. You have to fight, Haden! You can’t give up!”

  All right…all right… The way he saw it, he only had one chance of getting out of here alive, and it’d take a wing and a prayer to work. Steeling himself against the impending agony, he drew a deep breath against the hot poker being shoved into his lung, and let loose a shrill whistle that rattled off the walls and echoed through the dungeon.

  Lotus halted Tyber’s ass-kicking long enough for his head to snap around toward Haden, who was doing his damnedest to push himself up and stay vertical. Fuck if that wasn’t going to take a miracle.

  “What was that?” Lotus demanded.

  Okay, he’d made it to his hands and knees. Now if the room quit spinning, that’d be just great. “I was calling for you. Isn’t that what you come by these days?”

  Tyber let out a pained snort of laughter that sent a spray of blood flying from his nose. “You stupid fuck,” he murmured, shaking his slouched head as if he couldn’t believe Haden would be this suicidal. He couldn’t believe it himself because if this didn’t work, he’d just signed his own death warrant.

  Over the pounding of his heart, Haden swore he heard the rattling of chains, but couldn’t tell if it was coming from Tyber or the stairs. Either way, Lotus paid no attention as he stormed over to Haden and drilled him again. All his weight had been centered on keeping himself off the acrid floor, so he was in no position to defend himself. If he had, perhaps that would have saved the bastard’s life because a second later Kyro came charging around the corner of the cell just as Lotus’s fist connected with Haden’s nose. Bone crunched with a sickening thud and he flew onto his back, immediately drowning in blood.

  A ferocious snarl tore through the dungeon, followed by a crash and gurgling scream that abruptly went silent. Haden rolled to the side, struggling to clear his airway, and saw that Kyro had Lotus’ throat in his mouth—literally. Blood pooled around the hell-hound’s massive paws as Lotus’ sightless eyes stared his direction in terror. The demon’s trachea dangled from between the dog’s fangs, his crimson eyes glowing brightly in the torch’s ambient light.

  “Fuck me…” Tyber whispered, clearly shocked by the sudden turn of events.

  Kyro paid no attention to the demon chained to the wall. His attention was still focused on the one beneath him, his crimson eyes glaring intently on Lotus. A low-warning growl chortled deep in the animal’s throat as if he expected the demon to sit up any second and take his trachea back.

  “Kyro come,” Haden demanded, sounding about as authoritative as a kitten.

  The beast didn’t move from where he hovered over his prey. When the black mist began to seep from the demon’s feet and swirl around his legs, Haden knew a moment of alarm, afraid the dog would get caught in the mist and be dragged into the Abyss with Lotus’ rotten soul.

  Hacking up what felt like a lung, he cleared his throat and barked, “Leave it, Kyro.”

  The hell-hound looked at him, then down at its kill, and then back at him. “Do I really have to?” mirrored in the beast’s hesitant eyes.

  “Now…” he commanded, watching as the mist crept past the demon’s knees and closer to Kyro.

  After another hesitating moment, the dog dropped his coup and the trachea bounced off Lotus’ face, landing on the ground beside him. Kyro began to back away, but wasn’t moving fast enough. Haden tensed, unable to reach him as the mist snaked up and touched his tail. The beast let out a startled yelp and leapt into the air. The moment his feet hit the ground he hauled ass over to Haden.

  “I told you to come,” he scolded the dog as Kyro spun a circle, looking back at his tail as if to make sure it was still there. He didn’t blame the dog for his wimpy yip, Haden had felt the full force of that paralyzing mist himself—courtesy of Liam—and knew it was nothing to be fucking around with. “You’re okay, boy,” he reassured the mutt, using the last of his strength to reach up and pat his thick muscular shoulder.

  Kyro answered him with a chuff and then shoved his slimy, bloody nose in Haden’s face. Not only did it hurt like hell, because he suspected his looked about as good as Tyber’s over there, but it was disgusting. “Quit that,” he grouched, shooing the beast back.

  The dog whined, another completely un-Kyro thing to do, and nudged him in the shoulder. When he didn’t move, the persistent beast did it again, clearly wanting him to get up. Problem was, at the moment he couldn’t move. He just needed to lie here a few minutes, to close his eyes and rest—a few minutes he wasn’t going to get by the sound of those footstep pounding overhead.

  “You know you gotta go, right?”

  Haden didn’t bother opening his eyes. It hurt too damn much. “And here I thought we could be roomies. Kinda selfish of ya if you ask me, hogging all this space for yourself.”

  Tyber’s laugh was cut off by a pained groan. “Don’t make me laugh, man. That hurts too damn bad.”

  His own chuckle ended in a pained moan as he cradled his rib.

  “And you gotta take your dog with you when you go.”

  “He’s not my dog.”

  “He’s your dog. Look at him.”

  He cracked open an eye and turned his head to find the beast lying beside him, his bloody snout blowing red snot bubbles a whole two inches from Haden’s face. Aw hell…

  “If you leave him behind they’ll kill him for what he did to Lotus.”

  “If I leave you behind, they’re going to kill you for helping me.”

  “Lotus was right. I’m never getting out of here alive, anyway. I’m ready to be done with this shit. Gahn’s crossing the line, he’s trying to circumvent prophesy, and we’re all going to perish for it.”

  “How’s he going to do it? What’s he planning?” Holy hell, his side hurt. Each breath he needed to speak felt like he was incinerating from the inside out.

  “I don’t know the details. All I know is that he’s planning on using a Nephilim baby to do it.”

  Well shit, that wasn’t very helpful. The footsteps overhead were drawing closer, but he just couldn’t seem to get moving. Kyro must have sensed the urgency as well because he nudged him in the shoulder with that big head again. When he didn’t getup fast enough, he bit Haden’s sleeve and began to pull, except the damn dog’s teeth cut right through his shirt and tore his sleeve off.

  “Go, Haden, before, it’s too late. You deserve a fate better than this. I wish I could have done more to make life easier for you. Perhaps you can do something to spare the next Nephilim a similar fate.”

  That thought alone gave him the motivation to haul his ass off the floor—that, and Kyro was going for his jeans, so in about ten seconds he was going to find himself either naked or a eunuch—perhaps both. He cuffed the dog’s head away from his junk and shooed him bac
k as he rose on shaky legs.

  The dog’s growled response all but said, “Then hurry your ass up.” In Kyro’s defense, he did have exceptional hearing and those footsteps were growing dangerously closer by the second. “Go!” Tyber commanded when Haden hesitated at the cell and glanced back at him. It just felt wrong, leaving him here to die, but it wasn’t like he had a lot of options right now.

  “I’m sorry…” were the only words Haden could manage to wheeze out as he pulled the cell door closed behind him. Bracing his hand against his ribs, he bent forward, lowering his center of gravity to help keep his balance, and headed back into the tunnels with Kyro leading the way.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Olivia was having that dream again. Liam knew the instant it began. Her breath hitched in her throat, her lovely face pinching into a pained scowl. She tensed. Her lush body, once boneless in slumber and melded against his, now struggled to be free of his tangled limbs. The bitter almond scent of her fear stung his nostrils, setting off his protective instincts.

  “Olivia…” He swept his hand over her forehead, bushing her sweat-dampened hair from her brow. “Wake up, sweetheart.”

  She didn’t rouse from the clutches of the nightmare that refused to release her from its agonizing grip.

  “Olivia,” he barked when she didn’t respond.

  Her eyes flew open on a startled gasp, wide and terrified…uncomprehending, and unseeing. She flailed to get away, and he caught her wrist a moment before she nearly clocked him. As gently as he could, he restrained her against the mattress. “Olivia, wake up.”

  She blinked a couple times before her watery emerald gaze finally focused on him. Even then, it took another minute for the confusion to clear and the panic to fade from her face. Her body softened against him. “Liam?”

  The moment he released her, Olivia threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. He held her close, his hand reaching up to cradle the back of her head. Giving her a few moments to compose herself, he waited silently for her to say something. When she didn’t, frustration began to churn in the pit of his stomach.