Ice Warrior: (Dark Warrior Alliance Book 13)

by Brenda Trim

  Alex managed to crawl to her feet and realized her hand still gripped the scalpel. She brandished the metal instrument towards the demon as she took a fighting stance. A brittle cackle sent shivers down her spine.

  “You humans amuse me, fighting the inevitable. By all means, fight me. I like the challenge. It’s arousing,” the demon taunted as she stalked Alex down the hall.

  When the demon’s wing shifted, Alex chanced a glance down the hall. Peter was struggling in the grasp of the other demon. Alex’s stomach turned as Peter clawed furrows down the demon’s arms, and black blood oozed from the wound. The smile the demon gave him was bone-chilling. The creature’s jaw widened and expanded, and Alex saw multiple rows of teeth gleam in the overhead lights.

  “No!” Alex screamed as the demon sank its teeth into Peter’s throat. Her friend gurgled and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth as he twitched in the demon’s hold. When the creature lifted her head, the crimson fluid was bright on her grey skin and her long black hair flew around her head as she cried out in triumph.

  “Stop playing, Crocell,” the demon in front of Alex chided. “We need to find the mate and get out of here before the Dark Warriors arrive.”

  Alex’s gaze went back to the demon in front of her as ice inched down her spine. She said mate. Were they looking for her? Bhric insisted she was his mate. Instinct told Alex she needed to get the hell away from them or this wasn’t going to end well for her. She turned to run, but didn’t make it two steps.

  Strong hands clamped around her shoulders and lifted her into the air. It was her turn to kick and scrape against the steel grip holding her hostage.

  “What do we have here?” the demon hissed, and the fetid breath made Alex choke. Up close she saw tiny black veins running beneath the creature’s smooth skin.

  Long, sharp talons tipped the demon’s fingers. They glowed bright orange and Alex felt the heat emanating from them. Her flesh sizzled when the claws pierced Alex’s cheek as the demon grabbed hold of Alex’s face, forcing her head to the left. Alex’s heartbeat roared in her ears, and she feared her chest would explode.

  The demon muttered words in a foreign language, and the air thickened around them. A shroud settled over Alex and then she couldn’t breathe. She gasped and reached for her throat. An invisible barrier was cutting off her air supply. Right as Alex thought she was going to pass out, the pressure on her lungs opened and she sucked in air. The shield remained around her, but she could breathe again.

  Alex lifted a shaking arm, relieved she could still move, and, without thinking, jabbed the scalpel into the demon’s neck. The demon screeched and reached for the weapon. Alex panicked and jerked her hand, praying to get hold of the blade first.

  An unfamiliar pulse left Alex’s hand, and a second later, the metal softened and curved to the demon’s neck. Alex had no idea how she’d done it, but she felt a connection to the metal the second before it morphed.

  Alex’s distraction was costly. The demon quickly ripped the bent metal from its neck. Black blood spurted from the injury and landed on Alex’s arm. The drops burned like acid, but she didn’t have time to react because silver flashed in her vision. The demon was going to stab her.

  Alex flinched and closed her eyes, waiting for the blow. Instead, she felt the metal soften when it hit her skin. That was the second time she altered the scalpel. The ability made her wonder if her transformation had begun. Cailyn mentioned her DNA would undergo changes. Perhaps, that was what caused this power to develop.

  The demon’s eyes widened when she saw the metal bend against Alex’s flesh.

  “Oh, you’re even better than we’d hoped,” the demon sneered. “I have the mate, Crocell.”

  A glowing talon sliced through the skin behind Alex’s left ear, and she clenched her teeth. She was no stranger to pain, but this was excruciating, and she gritted against the agony. It felt as if her soul had been sliced in half.

  Alex gasped when one set of claws retracted from her shoulder only to be replaced by another. She was jostled between the two demons, and tried to break free as Crocell wrapped her arms around Alex’s torso, pinning her arms at her side.

  “She smells sweet, Cresil. And, powerful,” Crocell purred as she ran her tongue over Alex’s cheek.

  Crocell swiveled and headed down the hall, with Alex in tow, and that was when she saw the destruction. Furniture was tossed and broken. Bits and pieces from trauma kits littered the ground. Alex’s stethoscope was in pieces a few feet away and the sight brought tears to her eyes. Her brother had given it to her when she graduated from medical school, and now it was destroyed.

  When Alex caught sight of Peter, the tears fell in waves. He lay in a pool of blood and most of his throat was missing. Lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling. Her friend was dead and there was nothing she could do.

  Doors to hospital rooms were open, but patients were nowhere to be seen. The only other body in sight was that of the murdered orderly. The sound of beeping medical equipment was all Alex could hear as the demon carried her down the hall.

  The exit doors slid open then closed when they left the building. The place she’d worked at for the past ten years looked like a war zone. Crocell and Cresil had destroyed the entire wing of the hospital in a matter of minutes.

  The fresh air made breathing easier and the wind took away some of the stench that surrounded her. When Alex caught sight of a couple hurrying toward the ER, she screamed as loud as she could, warning them. The woman struggled to assist the limping man, but that didn’t stop them from running as fast as they could in the opposite direction when they saw the demons.

  Sirens sounded in the distance but Alex knew they wouldn’t reach her in time. She didn’t see a way out of her predicament, and feared she would die.

  There was no room to deny her destiny any longer, nor the fact that she was Bhric’s Fated Mate. As much as she wanted to escape his world, that wasn’t a choice for her. It would’ve been nice to know about the danger sooner.

  That wasn’t entirely true, a small voice chastised. Elsie warned her not to leave their house. In fact, she insisted Alex was in grave danger. Hindsight was bitch, she surmised.

  “Let’s go,” Crocell instructed and Alex watched as the other demon lifted into the air. It was difficult for the demon to fly with a smaller wing on one side.

  Crocell’s grip tightened around Alex’s waist and she quickly launched them into the air. The demon quickly flew to Cresil’s side and grabbed her hand, helping her along.

  The ground rapidly receded, and Alex struggled in the demon’s grip, hoping to loosen the demon’s hold on her. She’d rather fall to her death than go wherever these women were taking her.

  Crocell cursed and dug her talons deeper into Alex’s side. Throwing her head back, Alex was satisfied when she heard a crunch. The back of her neck burned and she knew she injured the demon.

  “Don’t stop,” Crocell murmured into her ear. “This is foreplay for me.”

  Disgusting, Alex thought, but she continued to thrash. She lifted her arms and bucked with all her might. She managed to free one of her arms and reached for Crocell’s eyes.

  The demon let go of her sister to yank Alex’s arm. There was a loud pop followed by severe pain, telling Alex her shoulder was dislocated. She screamed in pain as Crocell flew low to grab her sister’s arm.

  Alex prayed the vile bitch plummeted into the lake below them. When they leveled out, Cresil flew closer and placed her arm around Crocell’s shoulder. Crocell laughed as she wrapped her arms tighter around her waist and arms.

  Alex abhorred the glee she heard in their laughter. Her hope of escaping evaporated the higher they flew. Up ahead, she saw a glowing orb in the sky.

  Cresil spoke in the same foreign language again, and the orb pulsed and expanded as they neared it. Alex fought harder. She knew there was nothing good on the other side of that light. She felt the malevolence reach out and wash over her as they neared the object.


  “Time to go night-night,” Cresil said in a sing-song voice before her fist smacked into the side of Alex’s head, and the world went black.

  Chapter 15

  Bhric sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the bottle of scotch in his hand. He should be the happiest male alive, but he wasn’t. His memories had returned, he was back with his loving family and could sleep in his bed again, yet he was more lost and confused than ever.

  He wanted his mate. Alex should be by his side. He yearned to lay her bare on his sheets and pleasure her until she begged him to stop, then repeat it all over again. Bhric needed to hold her in his arms and feel her flesh against his. Instead, he held a bottle of scotch.

  Thanks to the head injury, Bhric no longer craved alcohol, but he recalled the comforting numbness it offered. It was his go-to when stressed, and liquor never disappointed.

  When he was a stripling, and the agony of losing his parents ravaged him, Bhric turned to ale. Then, it took a mere glass, or two, to forget that his parents had abandoned him. After he transitioned, and grew bigger, he needed to consume more to get the same effect. He hadn’t forgotten the hatred he felt toward his mamai and da, but he understood their actions now that he had a Fated Mate.

  After shoving him and Breslin in the safe room, there was no way his father could have remained with them when his Fated Mate was in danger. For centuries, Bhric hated his father for abandoning helpless children, but now that he had Alex, Bhric knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect her. With this understanding, some of the burden he carried for over seven hundred years eased.

  The stress of his current predicament, and not knowing if Alex would come back was driving him to chug the bottle in his hand.

  The shock in Alex’s eyes replayed in his mind. He felt her fear when he introduced her to his family and friends. Thinking she would embrace his world like she did him, Bhric was surprised when she turned and fled.

  What frightened Bhric most about Alex’s reaction was that she’d only seen the positive aspects of his life. How would she react to the demons that prowled her world? Inevitably, she’d be face to face with them, and how would she feel about the ugliness of that reality?

  Bhric knew he should let her go so that she could resume her normal life, but he couldn’t. She was his mate, and he couldn’t live without her. Literally. He was unable to feed from another source now that he’d found her. Fuck, he never caught a break.

  He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a deep swig, wanting to ease the ache in his chest. As soon as the liquor hit his taste buds, Bhric gagged then spit it out. How the hell did he drink this stuff before? It was nasty shit, and he couldn’t force the crap down his throat. He wished to reach that comforting state of euphoria. Apparently, he was going to have to learn better coping mechanisms, and fast.

  The ache along the mating bond throbbed and he rubbed his chest. Not even scotch could numb that pain.

  He sent a burst of power to the bottle and watched the contents freeze solid. All he craved was another taste of Alex, but she was gone. Bhric’s emotions spiraled out of control when he thought of never seeing her again.

  His life would be over, and he would perish in an agonizing way. He would slowly starve to death. Having fed from his Fated Mate, he could no longer ingest blood from anyone else, and if she never returned, he would slowly wither away and die.

  Not that it mattered if he could feed. Bhric didn’t want anyone but Alex. After awaking and realizing he had no memory, she became his entire world. That didn’t change when his memories returned. He needed her now more than ever.

  He hurled the bottle at his bedroom wall, and it embedded in the sheetrock with a loud thud. Several pictures along the wall fell to the ground and shattered on the wood floor. Tiny shards scattered like ants fleeing a disturbed anthill.

  Without liquor, or Alex, to soothe his frayed nerves, Bhric’s rage escalated. He fisted his short hair and yanked, hoping to rein in his temper. It didn’t help and his body shook uncontrollably. He was losing it.

  Standing, Bhric snatched the bedside table. The contents on its surface tumbled to the floor. He held the table with both hands and brought it down against his knee. It snapped in two from the force. Bhric took one of the broken legs and tossed it towards the wall. Like a dart, it punctured the plaster.

  “That’s right, motherfucker. You done assed out!” Bhric yelled as his fury spun like a tornado, demolishing everything in sight.

  He grabbed a lamp from the floor and hurled it across the room. It smashed against the doorway and Breslin screamed as it exploded against the wooden doorframe.

  “Bhric, what the hell are you doing?” Breslin shouted.

  He hadn’t heard her enter his suite and her voice startled him. His twin’s presence usually brought him out of any funk. It was one reason she’d been so upset about his drinking. They shared a strong bond, but when her presence couldn’t overshadow the shitstorm of his life, he turned to scotch.

  “Get oot, puithar! I doona need your lectures right now,” he growled and picked up his king-sized mattress.

  With little effort, Bhric ripped the mattress in half, as if it were a sheet of paper. Stuffing filled the room as he destroyed the object. He tossed the mattress aside and picked up his favorite recliner, hurling it towards the wall. The loud boom echoed as a large chunk of sheetrock crumpled, exposing the lath and plaster behind it.

  “Brathair!” barked a familiar voice. Bhric glanced over and met Zander’s piercing blue gaze.

  “Get oot. I doona need your shite, either,” Bhric snapped.

  “Training room. Now,” his brother ordered, glaring at him.

  Bhric knew what Zander was doing. Providing an alternative outlet for his rage. Fine. Bhric needed to fight.

  “You better bring your fucking A-game, Z. I willna go easy on you,” Bhric growled.

  “Ha! You couldna handle my A-game, arsehole, but let’s see what you’ve got,” Zander scoffed.

  Bhric looked to Breslin, and noted her arms crossed over her chest. He didn’t sense anger, but felt her concern and worry. Bhric glanced back to Zander who was still standing in the doorway of his bedroom. Apparently, he wasn’t budging until Bhric did.

  Bhric stomped past his brother and sister, and bee-lined for the training room. As he walked into the large area in the basement of Zeum, he didn’t bother grabbing a helmet, or even gloves. He wanted hand-to-hand combat. Bhric jumped onto the pad of the boxing ring and hefted one leg then the other over the ropes.

  Zander entered the room moments later and hurdled the ropes, landing softly on his feet. His brother was agile as hell. He’d give him that. Zander bounced from toe to toe as he shook his arms and leaned his head from side to side.

  The Dark Warrior training room had everything from weights, weapons, punching bags, treadmills, several elliptical machines, and a sparring ring. Every piece was state of the art equipment. Nothing less than the best would do for their program. Countless lives depended on them being the best.

  This was where Nikko trained new Dark Warriors, and where many of the warriors went to let off steam. Bhric noticed Gerrick and Rhys working out with the free weights, but ignored them when they greeted him.

  “Aye, you better loosen up, ole man,” Bhric taunted as he looked back to his brother.

  Zander threw a couple of air jabs, and scoffed, “It seems my baby brathair has forgotten all the times I kicked his arse. I’d say it’s time for a reminder. But first, you want to tell me why you were destroying your room? Do you not care for that hideous décor you picked oot so many years ago?”

  “Fuck you,” Bhric spat and charged Zander, taking a swing at his face.

  Zander ducked and swerved, then pushed Bhric to the ground.

  “Damn, bro, thought you were faster than that,” Zander taunted.

  Bhric quickly jumped to his feet and swung again, this time connecting. Zander’s head jerked and blood spurt from his nose.

  “Is that
bett—?” Bhric began, but Zander swung out, punching him in the ribs. A crack followed by pain told Bhric it garnered him a few broken bones.

  Damn, his brother hit harder than he remembered. Under normal circumstances, Bhric would have appreciated the hit and asked how he managed to increase his strength. After so many centuries of training, Bhric was at the top of his game, but continually searched for ways to improve.

  “Let’s dance,” Zander said, curling and extending his fingers in challenge.

  Bhric recalled the times Zander took him to the ring when he was a stripling, transitioning into adulthood. He wasn’t the most obedient of his siblings, and received more punishments than Kyran and Breslin combined. A lot of his bad choices ended with him and Zander duking it out in the ring.

  When Zander assumed the mantle as Vampire King, he was often overwhelmed with his tasks, and not always available to help Bhric cope with his excess energy, but the male was the only father Bhric had ever known.

  Bhric charged forward and wrestled his brother to the ground. A brawl ensued. They tangled and fought as punches were thrown. Bhric released all his hurt, pain, confusion, and fear with every blow and Zander took it without complaint. This was what a good father did for his children.

  Bhric could hear commotion in the room, and knew others had walked in to see what was going on, but he paid no attention to it. All he focused on was taking his frustrations out on Zander. He couldn’t stop the hurt of Alex walking out on him.

  Bhric loved her beyond reason. Every scar, every doubt, every imperfect inch of her.

  A sudden jolt to his system had Bhric tossing Zander aside. Bhric grabbed his right side. His mate mark flamed hot, but it wasn’t the same sensation he’d felt before. It was different this time. Something was wrong, and it was connected to Alex.