The Darkest Captive: A Lords of the Underworld Novella Page 11
“Early this morning, the Goddess of Many Futures showed me two possible outcomes for Legion,” Hades explained. “In one, she was abducted by Cronus. Which came as a surprise to me, considering Sienna had decapitated him.”
The explanation came with a ton of baggage to unpack. “What happened after the abduction? What happened in the second future?”
Hades drew his black brows together, his dark eyes like never-ending pits of fury. “First, tell me how Cronus survived his beheading.”
Do what’s needed. Get to Leila. He nodded to Fox.
She said, “After Cronus escaped Tartarus, he mystically cloned himself.” Tartarus, a prison for immortals. “The clone was programed to awaken upon his death, with a single mission. Find his soul in the afterlife.”
Made sense. Souls could leave the spirit realm, but only if they had a physical form to inhabit. Aeron was living proof it worked. The Most High—creator of Sent Ones, angels, and humans—gifted him with a new body after his beheading.
“You should have told us sooner.” Torin fronted on Galen, his hands balled, ready to swing.
Galen jutted his chin. “You can have a go at me after Aeron. Do me a solid and put a pause on your mantrum until Leilia is found.”
Once, Torin had been his closest friend. And okay, yeah, Galen had maybe kinda sorta had a man-crush on the guy. White hair, black brows, pale skin, and green eyes…strength and cunning…a sense of humor even more warped than his own…
Yeah, if ever Galen had gone for a male, it would have been this one. Over the centuries, Torin had always been the friend Galen missed most of all.
If he could go back …
No. He wouldn’t change a thing. If his past had been any different, he might not have become the man Leila needed. He would endure anything for her.
William buffed his nails, all casual sophistication. A deception. An inferno raged in his baby blues. “If you’re not coming up with ways to save Legion, do not speak. Yes, I’m talking to you, Torin. And Aeron. And everyone else. You do, and you’ll lose your tongue. I’m pressed for time. Got a group of nerds I vowed to kill if they failed to perform a few measly tasks.”
Whatever that meant.
Keeley jumped up and down, clapping. “Are you going to Hannibal Lecter them, like I suggested?”
Exasperated, William tossed up his arms. “Does no one listen when I issue a threat anymore?”
“I wasn’t finished. Did I sound like I was finished?” Hades held up his hand, palm out, and every other occupant went still and quiet. “The goddess showed me who to recruit for Legion’s search and rescue, as well as your arrival, and where we will find the girl.”
Galen darted around Torin, closing in on the H-bomb. Must proceed with caution. Considering the amount of power the underworld king wielded, and as weak as Galen currently was, he couldn’t afford to make a new enemy.
“Has Leila been hurt?” he demanded. “Do you know what’s being done to her? Tell me!”
“Tell me,” Aeron echoed, his voice broken at the edges.
Hades stroked the dark stubble on his stubborn jaw. “In one of the futures, she had bruises on her face, and a split lip. Whatever was done to her, she survived. In the other…she lost her head.”
Chapter Ten
Fear iced Legion on the inside, while frigid winds iced her on the outside. Full body shudders wracked her. Her teeth chattered, her stomach churned with a mix of broken glass and acid, her mind whirled with all the terrible things these men could do to her. But more than that, she worried over Galen.
Had he gotten help in time? Or had he…
No! She wouldn’t consider the alternative.
After Cronus and his army had dragged her out of the house, they’d taken her through a series of magical doorways. Not portals, not like Fox created, but smaller with a more turbulent pass-through experience; for just a second, as you stepped from one realm to another, rocks seemed to batter you.
Finally, they’d set up camp in a treacherous land with miles of snow broken up by the occasional ice mountain. Frost thickened the air. There was no sun, only a dark, angry sky thundering with displeasure.
The only source of light came from fire pits, where different animals roasted. Golden rays flickered here, there, chasing away shadows, but Legion wasn’t sure which was better. The darkness or the light.
Someone had tied her hands behind her back and secured one of her ankles to a wooden stake. The rope offered little range of motion. No one had hurt her—yet. No one had helped her either, or even given her a coat. She still wore her tank top and shorts, her feet “protected” only by a pair of thin socks and lightweight tennis shoes.
Again and again she wondered how this had happened. How had she become a second-time captive? Terrified of drawing attention to herself. Bound by the whims of an unscrupulous king. Helpless.
No, not helpless. Not helpless ever again! Especially not now, when Galen needed her. Galen, who had spent hours with her, reminding her of the combat skills she already possessed.
Fear is an anchor. Cut the anchor and soar.
Or run.
Yeah, she’d go with Plan B. She scanned the camp. No one seemed to pay her any heed. Men bustled about, erecting tents and building more fires. No sign of Cronus. Legion turned her focus to the ground, searching for a possible weapon. Glittering icicles…more glittering icicles…there! A sharp one. She stretched out her leg, hooked the hunk of ice between her feet and dragged it closer.
After contorting this way and that, she was able to clasp the piece to saw at the rope. She had agreed to leave with Cronus, but she hadn’t agreed to stay put.
A shadow fell over her, and she tensed, her gaze zooming up. Cronus! His muscular frame eclipsed the firelight. “Time for us to get to work,” he said, crouching down so they were eye to eye. “I must warn you. My predecessor had a conscience. I do not. The true king needed to guarantee I would do whatever proved necessary to complete my mission.”
Mission? Still sawing, as stealthily as possible. “What secrets do you think I possess?”
He reached out to sift a lock of her hair between his fingers. “Once, you lived in hell. Now you are a demon-human hybrid, who spent time in Lucifer’s Palace of Infinite Horrors. You are the only person I know to escape and live.”
A barbed lump grew in her throat as she recoiled. The Palace of Infinite Horrors—the site of her torture.
“Whatever you know about the layout of the palace, I will find out,” Cronus continued, unconcerned by her emotional turmoil. “Even details you might not realize you possess.”
“I know nothing. I was”—she shuddered—“blindfolded a lot.”
“Doesn’t matter. The mind is a labyrinth of knowledge collected by your senses. Or a puzzle, with different pieces scattered about. I have only to fit them together. But. To extract the information I seek, I must establish a mystical link between us.”
Link… In other words, he must invade her mind. Rape her mind. “No!” She shook her head. “No, no, no.” A thousand times no. “I won’t let you do this.”
“I do not need your permission.” His tone was sharp enough to cut glass. “The more you resist, the more damage I’ll do. Don’t worry. You’ll hurt, but you’ll survive. Though you’ll wish otherwise. And if you wipe your memory, I’ll return to Galen and finish the job I started.”
Bluff! “You think I’d care? If I wipe my memory, I won’t remember him.”
He studied her more intently. “Do it, then. Wipe your memory.”
Argh! Sawing, sawing.
Satisfaction oozed from the bastard. “Let us begin.”
Sawing faster. The rope loosened just a bit, but not enough. Come on, come on. Fight!
He gripped her chin and commanded, “Look into my eyes.”
She squeezed her eyelids tightly closed, still sawing.
He tightened his grip, and she cried out. Or tried to. Someone knelt behind her, wrapped a beefy arm around her neck, and
constricted her airway. Though her chest burned, she resisted.
“Open your eyes,” Cronus said, cajoling, “and I’ll let you breathe. Won’t that be nice? Filling your lungs. Think how good it will feel.”
A finger brushed her knee, and her eyelids popped open automatically, without permission from her brain. Wait. Not a finger. Sips? Yes! The raccoon was here, in this frozen wasteland.
Had Galen and Fox come to her rescue?
Hope bloomed. Unless lack of oxygen had made her hallucinate? Need to breathe.
“Come now,” Cronus said. “Peer into my eyes, Legion.”
No. Never. But there was something about his voice…
Against her will, she slid her gaze to his…Look away, look away. Too late. His irises swirled hypnotically, snagging her as surely as a net. The hold on her throat loosened, and she inhaled deeply. Total relaxation poured over her, as warm as bath water, the frigid winds vanishing from her awareness. Cold, throbbing feet? No longer. Icy blood? No, oh no. Lava flowed through her veins.
Why had she fought this? So nice. No, so wonderful, just like Cronus, the man she hoped to please above all others always, always, always, and—
A sharp pain exploded through her temples, the feeling of relaxation subsiding, revealing a dark underbelly of menace. Insects seemed to crawl across her frontal lobe. She couldn’t…she needed…
Footsteps, curses. Metal clanged against metal. The insects scampered out of her head, new pains cutting through her temples. Blood dripped from her nose. She blinked rapidly—come on, focus!
The icy tundra came into view, highlighted by those fire pits. Amid a soundtrack of war, chaos reigned. Men and women fought with savage determination. No mercy.
There was William the Ever Randy, laughing as he sliced a man from nose to navel.
Hades ripped out a man’s trachea and tossed it to the ground, like garbage.
Torin and Keeley tag-teamed a group of six, tearing limbs from two opponents to beat the others.
Paris and Sienna sliced through the masses as easily as butter.
Aeron! Legion’s heart raced, and tears obscured her vison. Oh, how she’d missed the tattooed warrior who’d once offered her a home, friendship, and a life filled with love and laughter. Why had she avoided him? Seeing him now, fighting so fiercely on her behalf, old resentments faded.
Then there was Fox, a woman maddened in more ways than one. She was fury incarnate as she spun, struck, spun again, struck again—Legion spotted Galen and whimpered.
He hadn’t given himself time to strengthen and heal. He’d come for her.
Her heart raced faster. If Fox was fury, Galen was pure, unmanaged rage. He used his wings for both offense and defense. He swung his swords, punched, and kicked, all while hovering in the air.
Multiple men closed around him at once. On his next spin, metal hooks extended from the edges of his wings. Oh. Oh, wow. Those hooks disemboweled one victim after another. Guess Galen had replaced the razor blades with the thicker metal for maximum damage.
Metal glinted from one of his hands, too. The hand the soldiers had severed. A prosthetic?
His speed remained unmatched, bodies toppling all around him. He fought as dirty as a demon, but he had the heart of an angel.
He is mine. My man.
He hadn’t just come for her; he’d risked everything to come for her.
In a rush of motion, Cronus moved behind her, yanked her to her feet, and placed a dagger at her throat. The tip pierced her hammering pulse. “Not another step,” he told Galen.
Legion fought her terror and continued sawing, despite close proximity to her captor.
Panting, icy mist wafting in front of his face, Galen ground to an abrupt halt a few feet away. He wasn’t the only one. Aeron came up beside him. William, Hades, and the others, too. Everyone but Torin, who picked off the remaining stragglers.
Finally! The rope fell away from her wrists. Legion reached up to grip Cronus’s forearm, to push him away and ease the sting. He only dug the knife in deeper.
“Hurt her further, and I will make your torture my life’s mission.” Galen smiled, slow and all kinds of evil. “I’ll enjoy strapping you to my table. Once I tire of your screams, your death will become a cautionary tale.”
“You can have the parts I opt not to mince,” William said to Galen. “Meaning you get nothing. I just ordered my Miracle Blade, and I’m excited to see if I can slice through a skull as easily as a tomato.”
Cronus hissed and sank the knife deeper.
In unison, Galen and Aeron took a step forward.
“No closer,” Cronus shouted. Considering the way his body trembled against hers, she suspected his panicked gaze was darting between the males. Unlike his creator, he had no real life or battle experience.
“Focus on me, Titan,” Hades said as Sips leaped into his open arms. He caught the purring raccoon and stroked his back, channeling Dr. Evil, a fictional villain she’d kinda sorta crushed on during her stay in the cabin. “I am the one you should fear.”
Cronus jerked against her, once again sinking the knife a little deeper.
She swallowed a gasp of pain, lest Galen and Aeron revolt.
“You’ve had plenty of opportunities to kill Lucifer,” Cronus spat, “and yet you’ve failed. You allow the war to roll on, countless people dying for your cause. Why is that, hmm? You should tell your so-called friends the truth. As for me, I’ll do whatever it takes to reclaim my throne. Something you should understand. Now, you have a choice. Chase after me, or save your demon girl.”
With that, he jerked the blade across Legion’s throat. Oh, the pain! Burning, stinging. Hot blood pouring. Vision blurring. Knees knocking, buckling. A whoosh of air as she dropped. Darkness encroached upon her mind, but not before strong arms banded around her, easing her fall.
A hoarse denial rang out, warm breath brushing the crown of her head. “You will heal from this, Leila. Do you understand? I’ve got you, and I’m never letting you go.”
Chapter Eleven
Legion slipped in and out of consciousness. The first time she awoke, nearly mindless with pain, Fox was stitching the wound in her neck, and Galen was issuing commands and shouting obscenities at Aeron.
“Careful! Do not hurt her. Save her whatever the cost.” Fury and fear layered Galen’s voice. “Aeron, get out of Fox’s way before I strangle you with your own intestines!”
“I don’t trust your friend,” Aeron snarled. “If she makes a play against my girl, she loses her head.”
“My girl,” Galen snarled right back.
“You’re both children,” Fox muttered. “Why don’t you both get out of my way, hmm?”
When the needle pricked a tendon, a stream of searing agony sent a message to Legion’s brain: Total factory shutdown.
Lights out.
When the lights flickered back on, sharp needle-like pinpricks stabbed every inch of her, deadened nerves regenerating. Icy cold invaded—shock?—and she shivered. She lay on her back, a soft mattress beneath her.
“Cold, sugar?” Galen’s voice. “Let me warm you.”
He lifted her legs and slid her bare feet underneath his shirt. The darling man was sharing his body heat, reminding her of a beloved hero in a Julie Garwood novel.
As Legion succumbed to sleep, she thought, I think I’m in love.
The next time she awoke, she was curled against Galen’s side, their bodies covered by soft blankets. Or maybe his wings? Sweat drenched him. While her teeth still chattered from cold, he was clearly overheated. But he didn’t seem to mind when she snuggled closer, basking in the deliciousness of his warmth and the decadence of his scent.
Drifting to sleep once again, she thought, I’m definitely in love.
Finally, she awoke for good and took stock of her physical condition. Only a mild twinge of discomfort in her neck. Not bad. She stretched, loosening knotted muscles.
Memories of Cronus’s attempted mind-rape swooped in, but they were quickly
overshadowed by memories of Galen’s bravery and kindness.
Where was he?
Disappointed to find herself alone, she eased into a sitting position. A note lay on the pillow next to hers. She read: Everyone is alive and well. Love, G
Wait, wait, wait. Love? Had he meant it as a figure of speech? Or did he love her love her?
Excitement surged, but she tamped it down and kept reading.
PS: Now that I’ve saved your life—twice!—there’s no better time to admit I also saved you all kinds of postage when I stole your letters from the cabin. You know, the ones you wrote but never sent. I particularly liked the part about how you’d never known true satisfaction until me. Let’s discuss.
Ahhhh. The blood-soaked papers she’d seen under his clothing finally made sense. Maybe a normal response would be anger? Right now, she was just grateful he knew the thoughts that had been tumbling around in her head.
One thing was clear, at least. Galen wasn’t nearby, and yet she felt hope for a better tomorrow. Therefore, False Hope wasn’t responsible. And, now that she thought about it, she hadn’t experienced any jealousy, either. Maybe his demons had no real power over her. Having lived in the presence of evil for centuries, she had better defenses than most.
Legion set the note on the nightstand and looked around. Sunlight glared through a large bay window, illuminating the entire bedroom. There was a desk with elaborate carvings, an armoire with crystal handles, weapons everywhere—swords, axes, and semi-automatics—and robotic birds positioned throughout. She recognized the floral wallpaper. Galen had brought her to the fortress owned by the Lords of the Underworld.
Even better, he’d carted her jewelry here. Everything she’d saved when those soldiers invaded her cabin. Darling man.
A fire crackled in a marble hearth, burning stalks of ambrosia like incense. Intoxicating smoke curled to the ceiling. As the drug of choice for immortals, ambrosia dulled pain and encouraged sedation. Kind of him, but she’d had enough sleep to last a lifetime.