Heart's Inferno (Fallen Guardians 4)

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  “Narfi’s dead, and that’s all that matters,” Kira countered, recalling the sadistic bastard’s brutality. Yes, she’d sliced and almost beheaded him with those deadly red strands, except he could have regenerated had Týr not set free his lethal ability, turning him into ash for a true death.

  Týr groaned, snagging her attention. His fingers twitched, then his movements grew agitated as if searching. She hurried over and grasped his hand, and his frantic thrashings eased. He coughed and winced, his other hand going to his chest.

  “Whoa, man. Not so fast.” Blaéz snatched his thick wrist, stopping him from tearing at the dressing.

  “Kira…” Týr rasped, voice barely audible.

  “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m right here.”

  His fingers tightened on hers as if to keep her there as sleep pulled him under again.

  With Blaéz settled in as caretaker, Kira made her way to the first floor, then knocked and walked into an elegant bedroom with pale blue walls and white period furniture.

  Her mother, seated on the armchair near the fireplace and drying her damp hair, watched her quietly.

  Kira offered a little smile, unsure what to say.

  “It’s still me, child.” Her gaze settled on Kira’s unbound mane. “Come. I’ll braid your hair for you.”

  She hesitated for a second. Týr didn’t like her hair tethered, but this was her mother. “Maybe a single one?”

  Kira lowered to the floor in front of her. As Luceré started parting her hair into sections, she said, “I learned more living here and taking care of you than I did in my eons-long existence. Things like braiding, I picked up from Lila…”

  She swiftly wove two skinny braids from her temples then wove some of the turquoise and black beads she had in a wooden box on the table into the ends of the two thin plaits. “These beads I put into your hair and the bracelets I’ve made for you are immersed in a protection and concealment spell. Use them to shield yourself, there’s plenty more in my room at the brownstone…”

  Kira nodded, staring at the turquoise and black bracelet she wore on her wrist. It had survived Stygia and the fight at the cabin. And she understood she’d have to stay shielded. “What exactly are you—I mean the Ancients?”

  “Right…” Luceré murmured, then she began explaining about them existing from the time of creation, and how they helped new realms flourish, giving hope to the denizens.

  “So, you’re like a god or something?”

  “More like something.” Kira heard the smile in her mother’s voice. “The Sins and the Ancients keep the balance over everything in creation. It was always about helping, being positive so the inhabitants could thrive. You could say the Ancients are the opposite of the Sins. They punish, we help people prosper. But, I find humans are a hard lot, not all are open to goodwill…”

  Reeling in awe, Kira digested what her mother had revealed as she moved on to ramble on about Kira’s childhood, about learning to cook from books, and about being a grandmother.

  Kira rubbed a hand over her queasy stomach, unease sweeping through her. She frowned. But the soothing motion of fingers working in her hair whittled away the feeling that something wasn’t quite right with her mother, and lulled her tired mind to want to shut down. Kira yawned, her eyelids drooped…

  “At least now, I know that, no matter what, you won’t be alone when I’m gone—”

  “What?” Kira’s head snapped around, her hair tearing free from her mother’s grip, fatigue vanishing. “What do you mean, gone? Gone where?”

  “Kira—” Her mother didn’t need to say any more than her name, and she knew.

  “No!” She shook her head in wild panic. “No, you cannot leave! I just got you back!”

  “My time here is almost up, my dearest child. I called out to the universe for you to be mated to someone powerful enough to protect you, preferably an immortal, so that the Ancients wouldn’t come after you if they found out the truth of my indiscretion. It eases my soul that you found a formidable mate. Now that you are safe, I can be at peace—”

  “No!” She clasped her mother’s hands. “You have to stay. What about the warriors? They need an Oracle, you know how badly they can get injured from those wretched demon bolts.”

  A tired smile curved her mother’s mouth. “I’m well aware those big babies will need help. I do have somebody in mind. Her name’s Jaden. She came to me a year ago by someone I trust a great deal. Anyway, I’ve spoken to her and she’s agreed. If it’s all right with you, she’ll stay on at the brownstone. We will talk later, child. I grow weary.”

  Only then did Kira realize what had been pinging her psyche like needles, making her so edgy. Her mother appeared as if she were literally fading, her skin almost pallid beneath her dusky coloring. “Please, Mom, promise me you won’t leave without a word. You won’t disappear on me?”

  Luceré sighed and gently caressed Kira’s cheek. “You cannot imagine how long I’ve yearned to hear you call me that, my sweet child.” She pushed to her feet and wavered.

  Kira hastily jumped up and slipped her arm around her mother’s waist, and helped her to bed. Torn, she stood there for a second. She didn’t want to leave, but she had to check on Týr, and Luceré needed rest. Exhaling roughly, she kissed her mother’s cheek before walking out of the room.

  A year ago, when she’d first heard about the Guardians, she’d thought being otherworldly was super cool. They had so many advantages; long life, incredible abilities, and a quick mode of transport. Now? All Kira wished for was life as it used to be, for her mother to stay with her—and to know Týr was all hers.

  But then life was never fair. She’d learned that the hard way.

  Chapter 31

  The searing agony splitting his chest apart held Týr trapped in excruciating torment. Voices bled through his pain-drenched mind…no. Not them. Kira!

  But his cry went unanswered. A deadly chill swept through him, freezing the blood in his veins, his mind, his thoughts. Darkness hovered…then warmth cascaded over him, cracking through the ice…

  Someone was using magic on him. No—no!

  “It’s okay. I’m here…” That voice—that soothing voice held him spellbound. It was her. His heart.

  Warm fingers wrapped around his and he stopped fighting the pull into oblivion again…

  Týr’s consciousness hurtled back online as if crash-landing on gravel. Every godsdamn part of him ached like a bitch with claws had torn through him. His torso blazed as if on fire, his mind a chaos of images, mushing his brain inside his skull.

  The alleyways… Fighting. Sinister laughter… Snow-covered grounds… Narfi. “Is she truly yours, old friend?”

  No! Týr jackknifed up, fighting manically to free himself from the trap pinning him in place. Kira!

  “Whoa—” Tough hands held him down. “Where ya think ya goin’, man?”

  “Where is she?” Týr croaked, trying to get the tangled covers off.

  “Kira?” Nik cocked a brow. “Downstairs, I think.”

  She wasn’t here?

  No. He had to find her.

  Týr tore at the tape holding down the needle piercing his forearm with the strength of an infant poking at a bullseye and missing. What was this damn place anyway? Had they changed his bedroom into a fucking intensive care unit?

  Nik snagged his hand. “Norse, don’t make me tie you down. And quit trying to haul ass from the bed. I’ll see if I can get her for you.”

  The churning sensation in his belly started again. Inside his chest, the fucking organ pumping there hurt like it was shredding apart. He could hardly breathe. Panted, “Why isn’t she here?”

  Did Narfi hurt her?

  “Listen, man, that female didn’t leave your side while you lay there like the aftermath of a torpedo gone straight through your ribs—not a pretty sight let me tell ya. So just lie back, get your ass better, and you can go hassle her later.”

  “You’re a fuuuckin…assshole,” Týr s
lurred in frustration.

  “Yeah, love ya too, bro. But if you think you can mosey on outta here on your own, be ma guest.” Nik waved toward the door.

  When the bastard brought out the street-talk, Týr wanted to punch him. He cut Nik a withering glare, but it got lost on the rat-bastard texting something on his cell. Seconds later, a beep sounded. Nik glanced at it, and those ice-green eyes came back to him. “She’s resting.”

  Somewhere else.

  He growled. Loudly. He wanted her here, he had to tell her the truth—

  “With you thrashing around right now like a headless chicken, can’t say I blame her.” Nik picked up a syringe and inserted the contents into the drip.

  With his heart pumping hard, the damn shit circulated faster in his veins. He was trapped in oblivion seconds later…

  Chapter 32

  The next day, Kira quietly shut the door behind her and walked into the bedroom, the silence an ache in her heart. She’d gone downstairs after Echo had dragged her off for a break, leaving Aethan to watch over Týr. But with one glance at Týr’s still body, the hope she’d harbored that he’d be up faded.

  Dull daylight cast a soft light over the bed where her once vibrant, larger-than-life warrior lay, brought down to this near skeletal figure. Tyr’s pale features almost matched the gray sheets. Purplish smudges had formed beneath his sunken eyes from his massive blood loss.

  Aethan straightened from where he leaned against the wall. “He’ll be up soon,” he said, probably sensing her anguish.

  She understood that, but the waiting was killing her. So, she forced a little smile. “I’ll stay with him.”

  With a nod, he headed for the door.

  “Aethan, wait…” He glanced back. “About Echo accompanying me to the cabin the other night? Please don’t be mad with her. It’s not her fault, I would have gone alone, but—”

  “She wouldn’t let you.” His chest expanded as if inhaling a tired breath. “It’s not that I want to keep her trapped here like she accuses me. We have enemies—”

  “I know, but we are no longer mortal like we thought, Aethan. And we can take care of ourselves. Echo’s really amazing. With her ability, we got to Týr faster…” But she still couldn’t stop what Narfi had done to him. Pain swamped her again.

  “Yes, you are both powerful females. Don’t worry about us, we are fine. And what you did, taking on a demented deity? Not many would have been that brave, but you saved our brother, and for that, you have our eternal gratitude.” Aethan inclined his head and left, the door closing softly behind him.

  Sighing, Kira sat on the chair pulled close to the bed and shut her eyes, rubbing the dull throb in her temples. At the slight hum of power inside her, she absently followed the trail of glowing energy to the nucleus of where her power resided in the core of her mind. Pretty strands of gold swirled inside her, the vicious red, web-like filaments dormant. For now.

  “Kira…”

  At the low, hoarse voice, her hand dropped. Frozen, she sat there for a second, her stunned gaze locked with Týr’s pale-toffee ones. Then the tears started at hearing him after so long. She shot up from her chair. “Do you need a drink?”

  He grimaced and tried to sit, the sheet sliding down, revealing the dressing on his chest. Hastily, Kira pushed pillows behind his back, and he collapsed heavily against them, perspiration beading his brow, his skin stretched tight over the bones of his face as if he were in pain.

  “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself,” she scolded, wanting to hug him so badly.

  Instead, she sat on the bed beside him and held the glass to his mouth. His gaze fixed on her face as he drank some of the liquid, almost as if afraid she’d vanish if he looked away.

  As she set down the glass, his attention suddenly veered up to the drip suspended on a stand, the one feeding glucose into his vein. His brow pulled into a frown. “How long?”

  “Three days.”

  He grabbed the taped needle piercing his forearm and yanked it off.

  “Týr!” she gasped.

  He tossed the thing aside and stared at the blood seeping from the puncture wound, then his self-healing kicked in, and the bleeding stopped. “I’m fine.”

  He was such a bad patient.

  “How can you say that? You didn’t see yourself. Didn’t see the hole in your chest, your ribs showing—the blood…” Her words tapered off on a choke. “You nearly died!”

  “Hey, I’m okay,” he said softly. “It takes more than whatever that blow was to kill me.”

  Tears of anger and frustration welled in her eyes. He was impossible. She found it hard to shut off her terror, reliving the moment again and snapped, “It wasn’t a simple damn blow. Narfi struck you with a death spell, one meant to painfully destroy an immortal.”

  “Oh…rrright. That would explain why I was out so long.”

  Gah. Men! Thank God, the last blood transfusion had taken place a few hours earlier while he was still unconscious, or he would have hauled that needle out, too.

  “How do you feel?” she asked on a sigh.

  His warm, callused palm covered hers. Remorse darkened his eyes. “I’m sorry, elska.”

  “For what?”

  “For putting you in the middle of this shit between Narfi and me. The bastard hurt you…” His breath sawed through his lips as if it were hard to speak. He shut his eyes and thumped his head back against the headboard. “Fucking hurt you…I wanted to make him bleed before I killed him.”

  “Honey, it’s okay, I’m fine. See?” she hastily said and caressed his forearm, trying to bring him out of his guilt. When those pain-glazed eyes finally flicked open and met hers, she smiled.

  He grasped her hand and pressed her fingers to his lips. Lines creased his brow. “What were you doing there?” he rasped, his stare suddenly hard.

  Kira barely stopped from rolling her eyes. “Gran, my real one, told me to…” She explained about Lila appearing in spectral form and what had occurred afterwards.

  His eyes bore into hers. “Matters little. You should have left when I told you—”

  “And you should know me better,” she shot back. “I wasn’t going to let that two-faced snake think he had the upper hand and torment you!”

  “Dammit, Kira—” Frustration tightened his face. His chest heaved as if he fought a vicious battle within. Knowing him, it could only be rage at himself over the fact that he’d been injured and denied the satisfaction of seeing his nemesis bleed and die for what he’d done.

  “I cared little about his taunts, I wanted to—shit!” He winced in pain.

  She jumped up. “This talk can wait for later. Let me get my mother—”

  “No…” he breathed. “I’m…fine.”

  Stubborn immortal. Kira cut him a glare, which was wasted on him since he’d shut his eyes again. She sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re only hurting yourself getting mad now. Just so you know, Narfi did suffer—a damn lot—before he died,” she said with great satisfaction. “He thought he had all his bases covered. He forgot one fundamental thing about you. You are no longer powerless. You incinerated him—turned him to a freakin’ pile of ash!”

  “I don’t remember any of that. But I do vaguely recall those deadly red threads slicing him…” A smile started, chasing away the lines of pain bracketing his mouth. “My deadly mate,” he murmured. His eyelids snapped open. “My dagger!”

  She frowned. “What about it?”

  “Summon it.”

  “Týr—”

  “Do it, Kira.” A fierce light turned his irises to a molten gold.

  She exhaled roughly, her fingertips smoothing the covers near his hips. “You know nothing’s going to change there. It didn’t happen last year or at the cabin. Anyway, I have my father’s weapon. It’s quite lethal…”

  He grasped her fidgety hand. “Sure, it’s lethal. But I hate that you relied on it during the battle and couldn’t will it to you when it got half buried in the snow. Now, summon my dagger!
”

  “Look, if you want it so badly, you call it.”

  “I tried. It didn’t come to me.”

  “What?” His words crashed in her ears, fear exploding in her heart. She stared at him in shock. Once his true mate touched his dagger, Týr would no longer be able to command it. “When?”

  “Back at the cabin, during the fight with Narfi. Call it, Kira. Please.”

  Unable to deny him, and feeling as if her entire life teetered on the edge of an abyss, she glowered. “Just so you know, if it doesn’t come to me, I will go and live with my father. In Stygia,” she added for good measure.

  “You’re not going anywhere. Now, summon the damn thing,” he growled, impatient.

  Scowling, she willed the obsidian dagger to her—the air shimmered. The next second, the blade appeared in her palm, glowing a warm, orangey-red.

  Kira stared blankly at the mystical weapon, her mouth drying up. Goosebumps spread over her skin. After all this time, when she’d given up hope that it would ever happen for Týr and her, it had.

  Tears started. With a sob of happiness and the dagger in her hand, Kira dove for him, wrapping her arms around his nape, her face buried in his neck. He let out a sharp groan.

  “Oh, God—” She hastily released him. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Nuh, you’re just a little heavy,” he teased.

  She sputtered in teary laughter. He lifted one hand to cup her face, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “You doubted me. I never believed otherwise. The first time I saw you in Club Anarchy, I stood there like some gaping idiot, not daring to breathe in case you were a mirage. Then you smiled. Even if it wasn’t directed at me but some idiot human male at your table, I knew I’d found a home for my heart—”

  Her insides turned to mush, but she arched an eyebrow. “So, you snapped at me to get my ass moving?”