Stephanie Rowe - Darkness Unleashed

  "Bravo?" Zach echoed. "What are you talking about?"

  Thano continued to clap, harder and harder, and something shifted inside Ryland. He lowered himself into a crouch, his tail flicking as Thano continued to applaud. "It's Ryland," Thano said. "He saved our asses."

  Zach spun around to look at Ryland. "That's Ryland?"

  Ryland didn't even bother to respond. He just turned to Thano. I'm going to get Cat—

  "Ryland's our third angel," Thano announced. "He's the Order's guardian angel."

  Ryland swore. He did not have time for this shit. He spun around to head back into the nether-realm, then stopped when he found his path blocked by the five hooded Order members. They were standing in a row, feet spread, arms by their sides, swords clenched. A low growl echoed from Ryland. He would not lower himself to speak to them directly. Tell them to stand aside. I'm going back in—

  The leader of the Order went down on one knee before Ryland. He bowed his head and laid his swords in a cross at Ryland's feet. "We honor you, angel."

  Then, to his shock, the other four did the same, repeating the words. Numbly, he stared in disbelief, stunned by the sight of Order members saluting him. For hundreds of years, no one had ever looked at him as if he had value. He was an outsider, a loner, a ticking bomb that would need to be cut down at any moment.

  But here, but now, they were treating him with the reverence reserved for a man as great as Dante. Not for him. Never for him.

  He hadn't even figured out how to respond when Apollo trotted up beside them, Thano now on his back. Apollo stood behind the leader of the cloaked warriors and went down on one knee while Thano bowed his head and laid his halberds across Apollo's neck. "You're good shit, Ry. Good shit."

  And then, his footsteps uneven and heavy, Zach limped to the front of the line. For a long moment, he stood and faced Ryland, his dark brown eyes hard.

  Ryland stiffened, his tail flicking as he waited for the condemnation from the man who had never believed in him.

  "You." Zach bit the word out with such hostility that Ryland almost flinched. "You fucking liar."

  "Liar?"Ryland repeated, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "I'm a liar? What the fuck is that about?"

  "You run around making us think you're going to kick our asses, but all that crap was just a distraction to make us not notice how many times you risked your life to save us, wasn't it? Like when you went into the pit after Thano?" Zach suddenly broke out into a broad grin and slammed his hand down on Ryland's shoulder. "You are one crazy bastard, Ry, and the ugliest angel I've ever seen, but if there is anyone in the entire world I would pick to be my guardian angel, it's you. Shit, yeah." Then he, too, dropped to one knee and crossed his weapons on the ground in a show of the purest deference.

  As Ryland stared at the seven men before him, an almost overwhelming sensation of connection and rightness swelled inside him. These were his men. These were his souls. These were his people. These were the reason he was alive. He felt it in the very depths of his soul. This was where he belonged...with them...and with the woman who still needed his help. Catherine?

  There was no reply, just a wave of darkness and pain. A cold chill settled on him, and his gaze snapped to the dark entrance of the nether-realm.

  Thano sucked in his breath. "Son of a bitch. He's hurting her." He urged Apollo to his feet, a dark, lethal expression on his face. "We need to find her."

  Ryland's attention jerked to Thano. He'd never seen a look of such lethal fury on the mellow warrior's face. It was the expression of a man on a mission, of a warrior whose mate was being threatened. Son of a bitch. He'd forgotten that it was Thano's brand that was on her arm, that it was Thano who had been bonding with her. But even as he looked at his teammate, he knew he couldn't give her up. She was his.

  Thano met his gaze. "The darkness surrounding her is intense. Can you feel it?"

  "Of course I can."

  "We need to both go in there."

  Conflicting emotions warred within Ryland. The need to keep Thano away from Catherine, and a more pressing instinct to do whatever it took to save her. He had no idea what he would become when he returned to the nether-realm, whether he would be enslaved again. The cuffs were still around his ankles and neck. When Dante and the angel had freed him, the cuffs had vanished. This time, they were still there.

  He had no choice but to bring Thano. "Okay," he said. "Let's do it—"

  Zach stood up. "We're going with you."

  "No." Ryland shook his head even as the others stood up. "I won't endanger you—"

  "Hey." Zach walked up to him, his eyes dark. "Just because your mission is to save our asses, doesn't mean you coddle us. Nothing has changed, Ryland. We are warriors first. A team. And you don't stand alone. Dante's still in there, and so is Catherine. If you're going in there, we're going in. End of story, so don't bother to argue. Got it?"

  A slow, disbelieving grin seemed to spread through Ryland as the others agreed with Zach. "All right then. Get your asses on board."

  With a loud battle cry, Zach grabbed one of the spikes on Ryland's neck and hauled himself onto Ryland's scaly back. In less than a second, the other five were also on his back, weapons out and ready. Ryland immediately took off, his wings flapping as he sped toward the opening. Apollo took off after him, keeping up with ease. But as Ryland headed toward the opening, he couldn't quite keep from glancing at Thano, who was hunched low over Apollo's neck. The humorous expression he always wore was gone. Instead, his face was set hard in lethal focus, his hands were fisted around his weapons, and he was urging the stallion on with more intensity than Ryland had ever seen Thano possess.

  Apollo was galloping flat out, sweat foaming on his neck as he thundered toward the entrance. Man and beast, on a mission to save a woman. His woman. Ryland's woman.

  They were in a race to get to Catherine, and only one man would win.

  With a low growl, Ryland stretched his neck out, lowered his head, and tore through the entrance. They swept through the opening side by side, neither of them in the lead. Catherine. Ryland reached out to her. I'm coming.

  At the same moment, he heard Thano echo his statement. We're coming for you, angel, Thano said. The whole damn lot of us.

  Then the vortex caught them, and Ryland focused on controlling their ride, so that he'd come out exactly where they needed to. The man in him half hoped that Apollo and Thano would get tossed in another direction, but even as he thought it, he moved his body over the horse, using his bulk to create a pocket for the duo so they would be able to stay with him, and stay safe.

  He was protecting the one man who might be able to take his woman away from him? Really? This angel shit was a pain in the ass. That was all he had to say about it. But when the vortex quieted, preparing to release them, his mind went still with the lethal focus of battle.

  It was time to save his woman.

  * * *

  Catherine gasped as Simon wrenched her head back and fastened a golden collar around her neck. It clicked shut, and then Simon put his hand on it. It glowed brightly, and seemed to melt into her very flesh. She screamed and tried to claw it off, but her wrists were already bound by the same metal, chained to the wall behind her.

  Simon released her, and she fell to the floor, gasping as she landed on hard stone. After using her power to try to bring down Simon, she had nothing left. Her soul was dying. The damage had been done. Simon's skin was mottled and flaking off, and she knew that he was dying as well. They were both going down, but at least Ryland would be free.

  "You stupid bitch," he snarled. "How dare you try to steal my soul?"

  "I didn't try. I did it."

  Simon stumbled toward a cabinet on the wall, his legs barely functioning. "Do you really think it is so easy to bring down the Dark Lord? You're an angel of death. You mean nothing to me." He yanked open the cabinet, and Catherine saw hundreds of stoppered bottles like the one that had held her daughter's spirit.

  Tear
s burned fresh, and grief crashed over her again. Her sweet, baby girl. "How could you have killed her? I don't understand. She's your daughter." No. Not his daughter. Simon was a bastard who didn't deserve the title of father. Not ever.

  He fell into the cabinet, crashing into the shelves. Dozens of bottles fell and shattered. The air around her filled with souls, the frantic, searching entities looking for their eternity. Lost, and confused. A self-preservation instinct flared through her, a need to feed, to consume the souls and give her enough strength to recover.

  She gritted her teeth, digging her fingers into the hard stone, refusing to give in. No more. No more. No more. She would not be that person ever again.

  Instead, she waved her hand, offering them her light to guide them on their journey. They passed by her, sailing from the nether-realm, their path illuminated by the angel of death in the role she was supposed to play as a guide for lost souls, instead of being a harbinger of death and destruction.

  Simon shoved more bottles off the shelf, his legs giving out as he fell. He lunged for a bottle on the bottom shelf, a pale green bottle that was almost six inches in diameter. A huge soul, one with tremendous power. As he moved it, she caught the faint pulsing of a familiar energy. Dante's? He spun toward her, holding it out. "You will guide this soul into me," he gritted out.

  Catherine realized instantly what he wanted to do. He wanted to mingle his life force with another soul and use it to sustain him. He wanted Dante's soul to become his? "No," she said. "Never."

  "You don't understand, bitch." He fell to his knees, holding the bottle under her chin. "I am Lucy's only chance to survive."

  She stared at him in shock. "What? Lucy's dead."

  "She is the daughter of the Dark Lord. She is far too valuable to kill."

  Catherine's mind reeled in disbelief. "She's okay?" she whispered, afraid to even say the words.

  "Not yet dead." He held up the bottle. "Guide Dante into me, and we will reclaim Lucy together."

  Was he telling the truth? Was he lying? She'd sensed Lucy's soul. How could she still be alive?

  He leaned forward. "Do you know how long a body can survive without a soul in residence?"

  She nodded. "It can't. Not even for a minute. Not if the connection is severed by death."

  "Oh, but my dear sweet, Catherine, you are mistaken."

  She blinked. "What are you talking about?"

  "Under certain conditions, like being killed by the Dark Lord himself on the temple steps, the bond is not completely severed. It takes two hours for that final cord to be cut. Until then, they can be reunited."

  She stared at him, inconceivable hope exploding through her. At his grin of triumph, she realized he was toying with her again, just like before. She recoiled from him, shaking her head. "No, you're lying. You're lying! It's impossible!"

  "I would think that you, of anyone, would realize that nothing is impossible." He smiled again. "Do you know how long it's been since Lucy has been without her soul?"

  Catherine's heart seemed to hover. "How long?" she whispered.

  "One hour and fifty-seven minutes." He breathed deeply. "I can smell the body preparing to die, can't you?"

  Her heart began to pound. "Put her soul back, then. Put it back!"

  "That's your job." He smiled. "You just need to guide her back, like any lost soul. Like you will do for Dante."

  For Dante? She suddenly realized what was going on. He was taking advantage of her need to believe the impossible, that her daughter was still alive, to make her work for him. It was all a lie. A stupid lie! Disappointment and weakness shuddered through Catherine. Fleeting hope lost so brutally and quickly. Her arms trembled where they held her up. Death was swirling through her, her soul bleeding out in its final battle. "You lie," she gritted out. "You're lying to me—"

  "Am I?" With a roar of fury, he shoved his palm toward the far wall, which was made of stone. White light exploded from his palm, and the barrier disintegrated, revealing an adjoining room. Stretched out on the floor, under a scarlet blanket was Lucy. Tangled blond curls fell about her cheeks, her hands were folded across her stomach, and her skin was so pale it was almost translucent. Her eyes were closed. Her breath silent. Her heart not beating. But there was a faint aura around her still, a body still clinging to life.

  "Lucy!" Catherine screamed as she lunged to her feet and ran toward her daughter—

  The collar around her neck jerked her back against the wall, and her breath gurgled in her throat, but she still strained toward her child, fighting desperately to find a way to get to her.

  Another burst of white light exploded from Simon's palm, and the wall reformed, cutting her off from Lucy. "No!" Catherine screamed. "Lucy—"

  Simon grabbed her by the collar and yanked her over to him. "Put Dante Sinclair's spirit into me," he snarled. "Now!"

  Catherine grabbed the stopper and yanked it out. The room was immediately filled with the most intense power, a soul so strong it seemed to make the walls bend outward. It was swirling about her, disoriented and confused, just as all the others had been. What did Simon do to the souls to make them unable to find their way?

  "Now," Simon snarled.

  Catherine immediately closed her eyes and reached out to Dante's soul, but it resisted her, refusing to let her connect with him. It was too strong for her to control. She was too drained to overpower it. Please, she whispered desperately, unable to get the sight of Lucy's lifeless form out of her mind. Please, come to me. But it didn't. It wouldn't. It strained against the walls, pushing away from her, as if it could sense the threat that Simon posed. Of course it could. It was the leader of the Order. A man who always knew. "Dante, please—"

  The door suddenly exploded off its hinges, and a monstrous beast exploded through the front wall. Her heart seemed to leap from her chest. Ryland had returned!

  * * *

  Ryland thought his heart would stop when he saw Catherine entrapped by the same chains that had bound him for so long. She was slumped on her knees, her skin ashen, her body trembling violently. She was reaching for him, a look of such relief on her face that his chest actually tightened. He was in time. He was there for her. He would save her. "Catherine!" He bounded through the door toward her—

  Simon jumped in front of him. "Down, beast, down!"

  To his horror, Ryland dropped to the ground like a fucking subservient piece of shit. Catherine's face fell. Raw, indescribable self-loathing flooded him. His woman was dying, and he couldn't save her? Unacceptable. This could not happen. He would not allow it. With a low growl, he willed his body to shake off the command, but nothing happened. He didn't move. Fuck!

  "You all die!" Simon whirled on the rest of the Order, white light exploding from his palm as the others charged into the massive stone lodging.

  "Ryland. Help!" Tears were pouring down her cheeks. Her eyes were haunted, her shirt streaked with blood. On her arms were the completed brands in the shape of Thano's halberds. For a moment, he couldn't take his gaze off them, shocked by the sight. Somehow, somehow, he'd thought that at the final stage, when that moment had connected them after he'd offered his life to save her, that his brands would have replaced Thano's. How could they still be on her like that? The connection between them had been about them, not Thano. It wasn't Thano!

  "Please," she whispered, her voice so full of anguish he felt a fissure crack through him. "Lucy," she managed to say. "She's alive."

  "Alive? She's alive?" Son of a bitch. Urgency exploded through him. "Where is she?"

  "I have to put her soul back in her body. I—" Her breath stuttered, and her skin grew even paler. "I'm dying," she whispered. "Need light. Nothing left—"

  "Catherine!" Her name ripped from his throat, a howl of such longing and need, of a thousand years of suffering finally being released. His life suddenly loomed before him, an empty chasm of isolation and loneliness if she wasn't in it. The magnitude of the loss was debilitating, tearing away at the very fabric of his bei
ng, a horror so great he bellowed in agony. "I won't let you die!"

  Summoning reserves he'd never before accessed, he lunged for her once again, galvanized by the terror of losing her. For a moment, he was suspended in stillness, frozen in time, but he could feel the invisible bonds holding him begin to weaken. "Now!" he roared, and suddenly an incredible force swelled within him, infusing his body with indescribable strength. To his shock, he broke free of Simon's hold and was suddenly on his feet again! He charged across the room to the only person in the room who mattered to him. "Catherine!" He ripped the chains out of the walls with his claws, then scooped her up, cradling her against his chest.

  She was too cold. She was shaking too badly. Her body was limp against his, dying. Losing her soul. Fear was like a cold knife, and he pulled her more tightly against him, as if he could use his body to shield her. Tell me what you need. How do I help you?