CHAPTER 24
It turned out that Underworld was a nightclub run by a very gruff jaguar shifter called Kyter. He had opened the black steel door with a disgruntled look on his handsome face and had pinned each of them with a glare, his golden eyes dark with it and warning that the disturbance wasn’t a welcomed one.
Kyter yawned as he scrubbed a hand through his sandy hair, the action raising the baggy dark grey tee he wore and flashing a hint of toned stomach muscles between the hem of it and his loose grey sweats.
Anais couldn’t blame him for being annoyed. It was three in the morning after all, and he had probably only just gotten to sleep after closing the club for the night.
Kyter motioned for them to come in and Loren led the way, carrying Loke into the dimly lit expansive room.
Anais wrinkled her nose at the smell of booze, too much perfume, and undertones of sweat. She caught Kyter watching her and smiled politely, hoping he hadn’t noticed her reaction.
“You think it reeks? Try being a shifter with a sensitive nose,” he grunted and shut the door.
It slammed and the sound echoed around the empty nightclub. It was strange being in a nightclub after hours. Most of the lights were off, but the coloured ones above the bar still rotated, their whirr the only sound in the silent room. It felt as if a vital piece of Underworld was missing and all that was left in its place was a ghost of a nightclub.
Loren carefully laid Loke down on the long black bar to her right and she moved to catch up with him, taking long strides into the heart of the club. She halted near Loke and stared down at him, her heart throbbing in her chest as she took in how pale he was now and the beads of sweat that dotted his brow.
“You do know dragons can’t be in this realm?” Kyter said at her elbow and peered over her at Loke. “It’s kinda detrimental to their health.”
“We know. I just need to get him strong enough and then we’re taking him back to Hell.” Anais looked over her shoulder at the sandy-haired jaguar.
His eyes took on the same knowing look as Loren had had back at Archangel. “He your mate?”
A shiver ran through her and she stared blankly at Kyter as those words crashed over her. Was he? She wasn’t sure and she had no way of telling. Was it even possible? She looked at Sable where the black-haired huntress stood beside her imposing demon mate. Thorne had his arm slung around her shoulders, holding her tucked close to his side, and had rested his chin on top of her head, his concerned red gaze on Loke.
It was possible.
Sable had fallen in love with Thorne and was his mate.
Anais looked at Loren as he checked Loke over. Olivia had fallen in love with Loren and was his mate.
She settled her gaze on Loke. There was every chance that she was his mate. Did he know? She wanted him to wake so she could ask him, but reminded herself that she had more important matters that required her attention. She could ask him later, when she had saved his life.
Loren gestured for her to move closer. “The process will be quite simple, but it might hurt and it will require all of your focus.”
She nodded and came up beside him. He took hold of her hands and placed one on Loke’s bare chest over his heart and the other on his forehead. It was hot beneath her palm and his heart thudded slowly against her other one. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath to steady herself and drive away some of her fear. Loke would be fine again soon, and then she had some serious apologising to do.
Loren placed his hand on the back of her neck and she tensed, her shoulders jumping up. “I apologise. I require a connection to both of you and it requires bare skin.”
She nodded and tried to relax, but it was difficult with Loren’s hand against her neck. She kept wanting to tense or wriggle free of his grip. It felt as if he was going to snap her neck or throttle her, and the voice at the back of her mind kept chanting how easy it would be for him to do either of those things. He was extremely powerful. One swift jerk of his hand and it would be lights out for her. Permanently.
She opened her eyes and settled them on Loke’s face, using the sight of him to drive awareness of Loren’s hand on her neck from her mind.
Loren placed his other hand on Loke’s chest next to hers. “Focus on him and the thought of transferring some of your energy into him.”
It sounded ridiculous, but she did as he instructed. The first few minutes ticked by slowly, her head filling with too many thoughts, cluttering it and making it impossible for her to focus as Loren needed. He spoke quietly to her, guiding and soothing her, encouraging her when she needed it and praising her whenever he felt the connection between the three of them begin to open.
She fell into a sort of trance after that, a blankness where only Loke and Loren existed, and she could almost feel her strength flowing from her and into Loke. He cooled beneath her palms and his heartbeat began to level out. It was working.
Her trance shattered as loud voices filled the silent room.
She whipped her head around and caught sight of the elves who had been at the complex.
The ones who had killed her fellow hunters.
Loren’s hand tensed against her neck. “Ignore them. Thorne and Sable will deal with them.”
She nodded and went back to focusing on Loke as Thorne and Sable moved off to intercept the two elves and the silver-haired male they had brought with them.
Another, larger silver-haired male wearing only pale grey sweats came out from the back of the club, shattering her focus again. Her gaze tracked him as he made a beeline for the man who looked similar to him, his pale eyes filled with incredulity.
Kyter moved between Thorne and Sable, and the trio who had entered his club unannounced, blocking their path. “I have a no fighting policy in this club, as you’re well aware. At least until I know what the fuck they want.”
Sable looked as if she wanted to ignore Kyter and keep heading towards the three men. The big silver-haired male reached them and the slighter man who looked like him blew out his breath and sucked down another.
“Brother.” That word leaving his lips had Kyter looking over his shoulder at the man.
“You know them, Cavanaugh?” he said to the bigger man.
The one called Cavanaugh nodded. “I like to think I knew one of them anyway… it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. I might be wrong.”
The other man looked away and the two elves with him shifted further apart, forming what looked like a very offensive line to Anais. They were prepared to fight, despite Kyter’s announcement that he didn’t condone violence in his club.
“Focus,” Loren whispered behind her and she dragged her gaze back to Loke and fixed it on him.
The sensation of her life flowing from her started again and she struggled to tune out everyone as they all began talking at once. Her side argued with the elves about what they had done, and Cavanaugh argued with them about something else entirely.
Anais took another deep breath, released it slowly, and focused on her hands where they pressed against Loke’s chest and forehead.
“That is good. Like that.” Loren’s deep voice was close to her ear and she nodded, beginning to slip back into the strange trance state.
The door in the wall ahead of her opened again, throwing light into the dim room.
“Hartt?” The soft female voice caused silence to fall in the room but the tension in the air ratcheted up a thousand degrees.
Anais glanced up at the beautiful, tall and elegant black-haired woman where she stood near the end of the bar, dressed in only a long black satin negligee.
There was a sudden and strange sounding roar off to her left and all Hell broke loose as Kyter launched himself at one of the elves—the one who had looked as if he had wanted to stop fighting the hunters when Loren had commanded them to halt their attack.
The male defended himself, blocking Kyter’s fierce blows and gaining some distance between them by teleporting away from the jaguar shifter. He reappeared right in front of the woman.
It didn’t help matters.
Kyter’s roar shattered the silence again and he was suddenly right behind the elf, his eyes glowing dangerously in the low light. The elf dodged the blow he had aimed at the back of his head and twirled to face him, a smile on his lips.
“How the hell do you know my mate?” Kyter snarled and lashed out with his claws before the male could answer.
Anais couldn’t help noticing he seemed to have forgotten his no-fighting policy.
Hartt’s smile became a wicked grin as he evaded Kyter, nimbly strafing to his left and coming around behind the shifter.
“We were engaged once.” Those four words only served to infuriate Kyter and Anais had the feeling that Hartt was doing it on purpose.
He was intentionally provoking Kyter.
“Kyter,” the woman said in a firm tone and he paid her no heed.
Anais tried to focus on Loke and shut out the lover’s quarrel but it was impossible. Her calm dissipated as the noise level rose, anger and frustration growing where it had been, and she closed her eyes and sought the strength to ignore what was happening.
She had just started to feel the connection between her and Loke opening again, when a new voice rose above the din.
“You must stop disappearing like this, my prince.”
Loren’s hand tensed against her neck and she squeaked at the sudden pressure. “I am sorry.”
She wasn’t sure whether he was apologising to her or to the man now standing right in front of her, near Loke’s head. Another elf. She recognised this one. Bleu was as tall as Loren and wore the same black skin-tight armour, but his hair was dishevelled and wild, and he had a teasing edge to his gaze as he chastised Loren.
The woman in the negligee turned wide purple eyes on him. “Bleu?”
He looked over his shoulder in her direction, and then at the fight happening between Kyter and Hartt. Everyone had moved back to allow them space, forming a rough circle around them and dodging either left or right whenever the two of them brought their fight a little too close for comfort.
Anais gritted her teeth and wondered if she was ever going to get some peace and quiet so she could help Loke.
“What did you do this time to get in deep shit with assassins, Io?” Bleu said and the woman looked mortified.
“I am not in trouble. Hartt is not here because of me.” She grimaced as Kyter landed a hard blow on Hartt’s jaw, sending him stumbling sideways.
The elf male snarled at Kyter through bloodied fangs.
She huffed. “Oh, that is enough.”
She disappeared in a flash of green-purple light and reappeared between Kyter and Hartt. She shoved Hartt in the chest and he flew across the room, slammed into the far black wall with a grunt, and dropped like a sack of bricks to the floor.
Kyter stood behind her, breathing hard, his t-shirt bearing long gashes in it.
Bleu stared at the elf male, his gaze narrowed and troubled, as if he was trying to place him but couldn’t quite recall why he knew him.
Hartt picked himself up off the floor and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing blood over his cheek. “If I had known you would turn out so damned beautiful, I might have married you after all.”
Bleu’s eyes widened and recognition shone in them.
Kyter roared and hunkered down, preparing to launch himself at Hartt.
Bleu beat him to it.
He teleported in front of Hartt as he walked back towards the female elf and slammed his fist into the assassin’s face, sending him flying across the room again. Hartt growled and teleported, reappearing in Bleu’s face.
Bleu didn’t even flinch.
He grabbed Hartt by the throat and shoved him away.
“Focus,” Loren said from behind her. “Bleu will handle this mess. Will you not, Bleu?”
“Yes, my prince.” Bleu nodded stiffly and drew a black blade out of the air.
Anais blew out her breath and locked her gaze on Loke again. She fell into the trance more quickly this time, slipping deep into it and feeling the connection between the three of them blossom again. It was stronger now and she fought a dizzy spell as her energy leached out of her.
Hartt hit the black bar, making it shudder and jolting Loke.
Anais’s temper broke its tethers.
“Will you all go in the other damned room or something. I’m trying to fucking concentrate!” She turned a glare on every immortal present, uncaring that every single one of them was infinitely more powerful than she was.
They all stared at her in stunned silence.
Even Hartt had an edge of guilt to his violet eyes.
“Take the fight elsewhere, Bleu,” Loren snapped.
Bleu didn’t seem to listen.
He pinned Hartt with a black glare. “Stay away from my sister, you assassin scum. I hear even a rumour that you merely looked at her in the wrong way and I will kill you. Tainted bastards like you deserve to be put down.”
“Tainted?” The female elf stared at Hartt, shock dancing across her pretty face.
“It’s nothing.” Hartt pushed himself off the bar and set his gaze on the other elf he had appeared with and the silver-haired man. “Get a move on, Harbin, or we’re leaving you behind.”
Hartt teleported and reappeared next to the other elf in his group.
Bleu looked there and his eyes widened again. “Commander Fuery? I thought you were dead.”
The darker elf’s expression shifted dangerously, turning even blacker than it had been before.
Bleu took a step towards him, the shock on his face remaining as he stared across the open space at the other elf. The one he had called Fuery didn’t seem to recognise him. He looked as if he was considering attacking Bleu, and possibly everyone else present.
“How did you survive Vail’s attack?” Bleu whispered and Loren’s hand dropped away from Anais’s neck.
She looked back at him and found him staring at Fuery, his wide eyes matching his stunned expression.
Fuery didn’t answer. He continued to stare at Bleu through cold black eyes.
“What happened to you?” Bleu took another step towards the other elf.
This time, Fuery backed away one and cast a panicked look at Hartt, his dark eyes gaining a wild edge as he started to shake his head. Hartt closed the gap between them and placed his hand on Fuery’s shoulder. The touch seemed to comfort him and Fuery drew in a shuddering deep breath.
“The elf is tainted,” Loren said and Bleu looked over his shoulder at him. “The male you knew no longer exists, Bleu.”
The elf male looked as if he didn’t want to believe that. Had they been close to each other once, back before the attack Bleu had mentioned had happened?
Bleu took another step towards Fuery.
The darker male responded by drawing his black blade and snarling at Bleu. Hartt stepped in front of his comrade, partially shielding him with his body and placing his hand over Fuery’s to stay his blade.
“Do you not recognise whose company you are in?” Bleu said and Fuery’s black gaze flickered to Loren. “Do you not recognise your prince?”
Fuery’s eyes narrowed and he snarled through his fangs, black-sounding words in a tongue Anais didn’t know.
Bleu’s expression turned dark and dangerous. “Your prince is standing in this very room, not roaming Hell bent on bloodshed and destruction. That wretched male is not your prince.”
“Watch your tongue, Bleu!” Loren snapped.
Bleu lowered his head and pressed his right hand to his chest. “My apologies, my prince.”
Loke groaned and twitched, and everyone’s eyes leaped to him. Anais stroked his brow, her heart aching with a need to help him. They were close, she could feel it. He was growing stronger. He just needed a little more from her.
“It’s okay,” she whispered and smoothed her fingers across his forehead and then feathered them down his cheek. “We’ll have you back in Hell soon, safe in your cave.”
“Cave?” Bleu frowned at Loke.
“The male is dragon.” Loren returned his focus to Loke, placing his hands back on Anais’s neck and on Loke’s chest. “I will speak with him about the sword and your mission when he is well again.”
Bleu nodded.
“Harbin?” Hartt grabbed hold of Fuery’s wrist and the man lowered his black gaze to it, his eyebrow rising as he stared at Hartt’s hand.
“I might be a while. Go on without me. I need to finish my mission and then I’ll meet you,” Harbin said.
Hartt nodded, cast one last look back towards Bleu where he now stood in front of his sister with Kyter at his side, and disappeared in a flash of silvery light.
Bleu muttered something in the lyrical language of the elves as he gave Harbin the evil eye and Loren responded.
Cavanaugh growled, baring huge canines, and moved in front of his sibling.
“Enough. No more fighting.” Kyter scrubbed a hand down his face, his golden gaze filled with weariness.
The elf female stroked his arm and he frowned at her and then his face softened and he lifted his hand and caressed her cheek. She smiled and Kyter’s gaze darkened, but not with a need for violence this time. There was hunger in it, desire that made Anais ache to have Loke look at her that way again, even when she feared he never would after everything she had done.
Kyter dragged the woman through the back door of the club and jealousy coiled in Anais’s heart, fraying her temper again.
“Can you all get the hell out of here now so I can focus?” Anais barked and everyone looked at her. “I’m trying to save someone’s life.”
Cavanaugh looked down at his boots, tunnelled his fingers through his silver hair, and then lifted his gaze back to meet hers. “I’m sorry.”
He caught Harbin’s arm and led him into the back of the club.
Bleu cast her an apologetic look, and then glanced towards Sable and Thorne. His violet gaze turned troubled, an edge of hurt in it.
“Return home, Bleu. I will be there soon,” Loren said and the elf nodded and disappeared.
Sweet silence fell.
Anais locked all of her focus on Loke and fell swiftly into the trance state. She lost track of time as energy flowed between her, Loke and Loren, a connection that felt like a living thing to her.
It made her veins pulse, a wave of heat travelling through her body with each beat, washing up from her toes to her head. A deeper awareness grew inside her, a sensation that she was connected to an incredible power, and she floated within it, drifting as light as a feather in the hazy pale glow that engulfed her.
Loren’s hand left the back of her neck and the connection shattered, bringing the dimly lit club and Loke back into view. Her knees gave out and Loren caught her under her arms and lifted her into his, cradling her against his chest as if she weighed nothing.
“You have done all you can,” he said. “Now both of you must rest.”
Rest sounded good.
Anais clung to consciousness long enough to take one last look at Loke, hoping she had given enough of her life to save him but not so much that she wouldn’t wake from the warm arms of sleep that were already wrapped around her and pulling her down into the darkness.
He slipped out of focus and sleep took her.