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Darkness Reborn (Order of the Blade #5)

Page 3

by Rowe, Stephanie


  “These guys were serious shit.” Caked with sweat and blood from the battle, Ryland Samuels crouched beside one of the two rogue Calydons they’d been hunting for the last eighteen hours, deadly bastards who had put up a hell of a fight before Ryland and Kane had taken them down. Usually two-on-two battles were weighted so heavily in favor of the Order of the Blade that they lasted less than a second—but once they’d finally found the bastards at sunset, the two rogues had kept Ryland and Kane at max capacity for over two hours before the good guys had won.

  The fact that the battle was so tough was bizarre as hell because the rogues had been so underdeveloped physically that they couldn’t have been more than eighteen years old. They’d been only a month or two past the dream that had brought them into their powers as immortal Calydon warriors. No rookie should ever have been able to put up that kind of battle against elite warriors who had been saving the world for over five hundred years.

  And yet they had.

  Which meant the Order needed to find out what they were, where they were from, and why they were both rogue. Rogue Calydons were bad shit, and the odds of two Calydons going rogue as a team almost nil, so the Order needed to make sure that these two were an anomaly, and not a trend.

  Ryland hooked his machete under one of their wrists and raised the dead warrior’s hand. “What’s with the manicure?”

  Ten-inch claws protruded from the tips of the Calydon’s fingers, still covered in Kane’s blood from when it had tried to cleave his heart out. “Maybe they came up from Hollywood,” Kane said. “You know how those fancy Californians are all bailing up to Oregon nowadays. How the hell would I know what his deal is?”

  Ryland narrowed his eyes at Kane’s aggression. “You seen it before?”

  “No. Calydons have weapons, not claws.” Kane shifted restlessly as Ryland nodded his agreement. He was unable to settle now that the battle was over. He was on edge, his instincts still ready for more action. He knew they needed to figure out what was up with the rogues who had invaded their territory, but he couldn’t focus. All his senses were on overload, telling him that something was deadly wrong. He scanned the woods, hunting for a clue, but came up with nothing.

  Ryland dropped the kid’s wrist. “What’s your deal, Santiago?”

  Kane whirled around to face his teammate, his adrenaline leaping at the tense undercurrent in Ryland’s voice. “What?”

  Ryland flashed him a grin that didn’t reach his pitch-black eyes. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be on the edge of going rogue, not you. You planning to snap so you’re the next one who has to be cut down to save the world, instead of me?”

  “I’m not going rogue.” Usually, a Calydon went rogue only after bonding with his sheva, the woman destined to be his soul mate for all eternity. The bond between them, once completed, was destined to turn him rogue and destroy both of them and all that mattered to them once all the stages of bonding were completed. However, a rare few turned into mindless, killing machines even in the absence of a sheva. Expectations were high that the moody Ryland would soon fall into the latter category, but Kane had his shit together. “I’m fine.”

  Ryland rose to his feet, his well-muscled bulk innately aggressive. His black jeans and t-shirt had been shredded mercilessly from the fight. “Don’t lie to me, Santiago. There’s no room for that shit between us.”

  The black brands in Kane’s arms burned, and he fisted his weapons, a set of doubled-spiked flails with spiked balls spinning on the ends of the steel chains. The clang of the metal balls cracking against each other jerked Kane’s attention to them, and he suddenly realized how close he was to launching himself at Ryland.

  He was ready to strike first against his own teammate? Kane swore and sheathed his weapons. They vanished into the air, returning to the brands on his arms that were an exact match for the weapons they housed. He held up his hands in surrender. “Stand down. I’m good.”

  Ryland sheathed his own weapons, taking the temptation away from both of them. “Shit, man. You’re off, big time.”

  “I—” A sound caught Kane’s attention, and he turned sharply. “Did you hear that?”

  “What?” Ryland went still, and the air hummed as both Calydons reached out into the night with their senses.

  For a moment, Kane heard nothing but the skittering of rodents’ feet, the hoot of owls, and the crackling of the earth as it drank in the moisture from the night.

  Then he heard it again.

  A woman’s scream. Unending terror and pain. The roar of a spirit fighting desperately and hopelessly for its very survival.

  The sound went straight to Kane’s core, ripping through his shields like a burning knife into his heart. His whole body vibrated in response, adrenaline raging with the need to find her. To protect her. To save her. Kane spun around wildly, almost desperately, trying to pinpoint the sound and determine where it was coming from. It was bouncing off the trees, echoing in the air, coming at him from all directions, like an assault of agony. “Fuck!”

  “What?” Ryland strode up beside him. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “How can you not hear that?” She screamed again, eviscerating every defense Kane had. He had to go. Had to find her. Had to save her and find out who she was. She needed him. Black light flashed above the brands on his arms, a loud crack split the night, and then Kane’s weapons appeared in his hands, the glittering steel ready for battle.

  “What is it?” Ryland called out his own machetes with a crack and a flash of black light. “I’m picking up nothing. Tell me what you got.”

  Kane shoved his teammate aside, his entire soul howling with the need to find the woman. “Where are you?” he bellowed, his voice echoing into the night.

  No response. Just the ominous echo of silence. Was she dead?

  Uncontrollable grief ripped through Kane at the thought of her being dead, a loss so severe he went down on his knees, gasping for breath. He braced his hands on the earth, his fingers digging into the moss, fighting against the crushing blackness, the loss, the shredding of his innermost core—

  Help me. The desperate plea invaded his mind, a woman’s voice filled with pain, anguish and betrayal.

  Kane’s head snapped up, instantly alert. She was alive! His entire being vibrated with rightness at the sound of her voice. He lurched to his feet as her anguish shredded his mental shields and consumed him. I hear you. He sent out his reassurance, his iron strength, showing her the immense power he offered.

  There was no relief from her. Just another stab of pain that knifed all the way to Kane’s gut. Hurry. Please hurry.

  Son of a bitch! Kane focused every fiber of his soul on her, and his entire existence honed in on those words, on her voice, on her spirit, on her very being.

  Then he located his target. He knew where she was. I’m coming.

  Kane didn’t hesitate. He didn’t pause to question the intensity of his response to her or ascertain what he was heading into. He didn’t even take the time to grab his teammate and take Ryland with him. He just locked onto her location and dematerialized, using her desperation as his only guide as to where he needed to be.

  *

  Sarah felt her soul disintegrating into a thousand pieces as she clutched her hand over the wound in her side. Strewn around her on the road were dozens of dying Calydons, she had destroyed. Her chest ached, and her heart felt like daggers were digging their way through it. She’d killed them all. Every last one.

  They’d kept coming, one by one by one, goading her into attacking them to stay alive, forcing her to take one step closer to the death of her body and her spirit. Fever burned, her head ached, her vision was blurry, her mind numb with the horror of what she’d done.

  There was one more assailant left. The one who was there to bring her down. The one who had been waiting to make his move until she was so worn down that she would have no more defenses.

  “Go away,” she whispered, her throat so raw from screaming that she cou
ld barely make a sound. “Please don’t do this, Jacob.”

  But there he came, prowling around the end of her SUV, her blood dripping from his claws. Her younger brother’s blue eyes were glowing blood red, bottomless pits of torment and violence. His tee shirt was spotted with her blood, his jeans torn. On his arms were the violent black brands in the shape of a sickle, too thick and too dark for a Calydon who’d come into his powers only two days ago. He was so much more than he should have been.

  Dammit! How could he have succumbed the way the others had? This was her brother. Around his neck glittered the talisman she’d given him when he was sixteen, hoping it would be enough to keep the monster at bay. There it hung at his throat, taunting her for thinking she could save him, that somehow, this time, love would be enough to protect a male from the curse. “Come on, Jacob! Be stronger than this!”

  He growled, an unearthly, inhuman sound that brought back nightmares of the night Mason had attacked. She scrambled backward, instinctively reaching for the baby that was no longer there, the one she hadn’t been able to protect. Her hands closed over air, and for a second, she panicked, then reality came crashing back on her. There was no baby this time. It was just her, and her brother. “Jacob! Dammit! Don’t do this!”

  Something flickered in those red eyes, a flash of blue, and she realized he still had a chance. He wasn’t lost entirely. “Jacob! Don’t let this consume you! You’re stronger than this—”

  He stopped his approach and stared at her, his body coiled to attack.

  She froze, afraid to trigger him. “Jacob,” she urged. “It’s me. Your sister. You love me.”

  Silence hung between them, and her heart began to pound with hope. Would he come back? Would he—

  He attacked, launching himself at her.

  She screamed, but she had no chance to get away before his claws sank into her stomach. Sarah gasped as pain rushed through her, and she saw the promise of death in his eyes. She knew she had no choice. Once again, she had no choice. “Damn all of you!”

  He lunged for her heart, and she unleashed the white light buried within her. Her skin radiated out into the night with such intensity that the entire forest glowed.

  Jacob screamed and stumbled off her, covering his eyes as his skin began to blister.

  Sarah gasped as the backlash of her powers hit her. Pain knifed through her, and she clutched her stomach, gasping at the agony slicing through her. She fought to cut off her powers and end her attack before she could kill him, shoving aside the intense heat radiating from her, yanking it back into her and away from her brother.

  Jacob was sprawled a few yards away, writhing as the light burned him. Sarah trembled, and tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at the man she loved so dearly, dying in front of her. She pressed her palm against the wound in her belly as the shakes and nausea overwhelmed her. Hollowness began to fill her, a bottomless abyss of nothingness. Death. It was coming for her, ready to decimate the final shreds of her soul.

  No! She couldn’t succumb. She had to find faith again. There had to be something worth living for, something good inside her. Desperate, she searched her heart for something to believe in, but there was nothing there. Just the betrayal of her brother, the loss of so many she loved, the truth of so many lives she’d taken. There was nothing left to hold onto, nothing to pull herself out of the pit that was consuming her.

  Jacob’s eyes met hers, and she saw in them too much life. Horror welled through her as she realized that in her attempt to avoid killing him, she’d cut off her attack too soon. He wasn’t debilitated enough. He was going to attack again.

  Sarah watched in disbelief as Jacob began to drag himself toward her, his red eyes fixated on hers. “Don’t,” she warned. Frantically, she searched the woods, desperate to try to find another option, a way out. It couldn’t end like this! “Don’t do it.”

  He uncurled his claws, and tears filled her eyes. How could he be making this choice? Wasn’t there anything left of the human being he used to be? Of the brother she once loved? She knew he’d been chosen for her, because the betrayal by her own brother was the final blow that would eviscerate every last shred of hope and faith from her soul. “Oh, come on!” she shouted at him. “I’m your damned sister, Jacob! You’re a better man than this!”

  Jacob didn’t even hesitate, dragging himself closer and closer to her, the inexorable approach of doom. Was he too weak to teleport, or was he forcing her to watch his approach on purpose, to have each inch of progress destroy another part of her soul?

  As she watched him, her heart began to fragment, piece by piece, the strings that had been barely holding it together for so long finally breaking. Weakly, she managed to raise one hand in warning, letting white light pulse from her palm. “I’ll kill us both,” she whispered.

  His eyes glowed with excitement. “I know.”

  He knew. He was willing to sacrifice himself just to see her die. How on earth could he have been conscripted like this, turned so far from the person he used to be? “Dammit! I won’t let this happen!” She fought to sit up, and dizziness sent her back down to her side as she struggled for breath. Come on, Sarah! Fight! She shoved herself up on her elbows. “Jacob—”

  He jammed a claw between her shoulder blades and knocked her back toward the earth. Pain barreled through her, and the dark chasm inside her grew larger, threatening to overtake her—

  Then she felt it again. That warmth in her mind. That protective male energy. She hadn’t imagined it? It was real? Was there really someone out there who could help? Hurry. Please hurry.

  I’m coming. The male voice was so fierce and furious in her mind that sudden hope flooded her like a great burst of sunshine.

  Jacob froze, his hand suspended in midair over her throat as if he’d sensed it too.

  “Someone is coming to save me,” she whispered, her throat too dry to do more than rasp out the words, the deadliness of the stranger’s voice reverberating through her. “Run, Jacob, before he gets here. He’ll kill you.” She had no doubt of that. She’d felt the violence pulsing through the stranger, and knew he wouldn’t hesitate.

  It was great, of course, to have some protector descend upon her like a gift from the heavens, but this was her brother, after all, and she didn’t want him to die. There had still been flashes of blue in his eyes. He still might reclaim himself. She had to give him that chance. “Get out of here, Jacob!”

  But he didn’t retreat, and his forearm tensed to strike—

  The night burst with sudden energy, and a huge Calydon warrior materialized beside her SUV. His torso was bare, covered in scars. His shoulders were tremendous and wide, and his fists were clenched around a pair of deadly spiked flails. He was strength and power, consumed with a ferocity that made the night thunder. He met her gaze, and for a split second, she felt the world grind to a halt, as if time had literally stopped from the force of their connection.

  Then his gaze went to her trembling hand, where she was pressing so weakly and desperately against the wound in her side. Intense, violent fury darkened his face, and his body vibrated with aggression. She saw him fixate on Jacob, who was still crouched over her, his claws poised over her throat. The two warriors stared each other down, and she knew Jacob was trying to decide whether he could kill her before this warrior reached him.

  Sudden terror consumed her, a sense of overwhelming loss at what would happen if these two warriors engaged. Everything was being held in the balance, dependent on the outcome of that moment. Both men had to live. They both had to live. She knew it with sudden certainty, with everything she had. “No, Jacob,” she managed. “Don’t do it—”

  But before she could finish the words, Jacob slashed at her neck. The new warrior bellowed with rage, and he materialized at her side just as Jacob’s claws raked across her throat. He jammed the flail in Jacob’s chest and flung her brother into the forest as she grabbed at her neck, gasping at the pain.

  Jacob landed with a thud,
then scrambled to his feet and bolted into the darkness, fleeing to preserve his life and attack her another day. She grabbed the warrior’s ankle as he started to fade to go after her brother. “No,” she gasped, terrified he would finish off Jacob. “Let him go.”

  He looked down at her, and she saw the aggression and violence in his dark eyes, a jolting reminder that he was a Calydon warrior, a male she couldn’t trust, an unpredictable enemy who would turn on her at any moment, the creature born to be her very downfall.

  Stunned, she let her hand fall from his ankle. How could she have forgotten what he was? How could she have forgotten the lessons she’d learned so brutally? How could she have let herself be consumed by the relief she’d felt at his arrival?

  The moment he sensed what she was, even on a subconscious level, he would kill her. There would be no way for him to stop himself. It was why he and all the other Calydons were created: to destroy her and her kind.

  His eyes were black now, but they would soon turn red. They always did.

  It was nighttime now, the kind of dark, moonless night that was the playground for his kind. She was alone with him in a stretch of forest, miles from humanity, still helpless from the punishment of using her powers against Jacob and the others. She had no defenses. No resources. No way to survive him when he turned on her.

  But as the aftermath of her powers began to take over her, and the fever set in, she knew that without him, she wouldn’t survive either.

  *

  She was dying.

  Kane could feel the ebbing of her life force as her hand fell away from his ankle. Urgency coursed through him, and he crouched beside her, his Calydon instinct to hunt down her attacker vanishing in the face of her fading spirit. He put his hand over her side and swore when she tried to jerk away from him. “No, no,” he said quietly. “I won’t hurt you.”

  But there was terror on her face. Not random fear of what he was, a member of the Order of the Blade with a fearsome reputation. No, there was wisdom and a grim acceptance of reality in her blue eyes, as if she knew who he truly was. As if she had the answers he’d been seeking his whole life. Shock shot through him. “You know who I am,” he said fiercely. “Who am I?”

 

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