Chapter Nine

 

Shade woke when she felt a slight tingle in the air. Her eyes stretched wide to see in the utter darkness of her room. The tingle grew until it became a low hum.

Swearing, she jackknifed in the luxurious bed the target had given her. She knew what that sound meant. Hurrying into her clothes, she was somewhat prepared for the inverted portal. Once it opened, she was sucked through into the screaming chaos. Mildly thinking that it was too early in the morning for this shit, Shade relaxed and let the portal take her. She’d fought one before, back when she’d tried running from Luther, but the ensuing pain hadn’t been worth it.

Seconds, minutes, hours later, she was deposited on her knees in Luther’s private residence. Bloody demon lords were the only ones who could call inverted portals which meant he could call her to him anytime he wanted.

The hard tiles beneath her knees did little to absorb the shock of bone hitting the ground, yet she wouldn’t allow a grimace to cross her face. Luther was watching her even if he wasn’t in front of her at the moment.

Taking the short reprieve to look around, she saw he’d called her into a courtyard of some kind. His home was a dark, monastic retreat with only him as its resident. He’d brought her here once, when he’d been in the stages of infatuation. Shade was sure the dungeon still carried the stain of her blood on the stones. Her own mark left on the home of her handler and torturer.

“Why isn’t he dead?” Luther asked calmly from somewhere behind her.

Shade didn’t bother turning around. He had set her on the floor in this direction for a reason. Turning around would only anger him that much quicker.

“I’m trying to discover his weakness,” she answered smoothly.

“You don’t need to know his weaknesses to kill him. You were given your orders and haven’t fulfilled them.” The scrape of foot on stone came from three feet to her left. “Don’t you remember what happens when you anger me, Shade?” he whispered in her ear, hot breath bathing her skin. “Do you want to be punished? Is that it, my sweet? You miss the feel of the irons around your neck and my whip on your skin?”

Deep in her gut, a knot of cold fear and revulsion pulsed. Showing no outward reaction, Shade forced her mind to cut off the images his words gave her. She’d lived those images; she didn’t want to remember them. Not now. She needed her wits about her if she was going to get away from Luther.

“Lovely Shade. I wasn’t ready to turn you over to your assignments. I almost begged the master to let me have you as a reward for my years of service.” The back of his hand drifted over her cheek and down her throat to the band of black she’d used to cover her burns. “These bands excite me, Shade. They make me want to chain you again.”

Panic clawed at Shade’s throat. She wanted to scream in rage, wanted to tear his eyes out. Instead she stared straight ahead, letting him hover over her. His day would come, she knew. He was useful to the master now, but soon he wouldn’t be and when that happened, he would die. And if she was alive to see it, she’d dance a fucking jig over his dead body.

His massive hand encircled her throat, jerking her gaze around to meet his. “You will kill him, Shade.” He snapped his fingers and another figure moved into the courtyard.

Shade couldn’t see who it was, but she was surprised. Luther never let anyone join in his little games. Her panic blossomed as Luther ripped her shirt from her body, leaving her in nothing but jeans and a bra. His lips quirked as he inspected her, fingers digging into her neck.

“You always were lovely, such a shame you’re no longer any fun,” he murmured before nodding at whoever stood behind her.

Sudden searing pain, made Shade’s mouth open on a soundless scream. Fire licked up from her shoulder. A brand, they were branding her with super-heated iron. She felt the poison seep into her system through her open flesh. The brander kept pressing, the stench of her burned skin making her stomach twist. Agony hurtled through her body making her flail and shudder in Luther’s cruel grasp.

“Perfect. Another,” Luther urged his assistant.

Shade struggled in his hold. She’d make him rip her throat out before she’d take another brand. The pain. Oh Gods, the pain! She fought his hold to no avail. She was still too weak and disoriented from the portal.

The fire met the opposite shoulder, searing deep into her tissue. Black dots danced before her eyes as tears trickled down her cheeks. She couldn’t breathe with Luther’s hold on her throat, couldn’t move as the brand marked her with a fiery kiss. The iron was removed, though the pain lingered.

Ice cold water was poured over both wounds. A scream of agony was trapped in her throat. The salt burned more than the brand had. Weakness flooded her limbs, the black dots turning into waves as darkness crept into her vision.

“You should know better than to defy me, Shade,” Luther whispered against her ear as a lover would. She felt his lips touch the top curve of the appendage then his teeth sank into it sharply. “If the master didn’t want you for himself, I’d keep you here and fuck the assignment.”

She wanted to shudder, wanted to rail at him, but the pain racking her body and Luther’s viselike grip on her neck kept her silent. Shade swore to herself she was going to kill Luther. Forcing her eyes open, she tilted her head back enough to meet Luther’s gaze and let him see the intent in her eyes.

She saw the knowledge of his death in his face. He wasn’t scared, wasn’t intimidated in the least. If anything, the bastard looked like he anticipated the fight, the light in his eyes both lustful and eager. He dropped her to the ground.

“Don’t forget the job, Shade. I might not be so nice next time,” he cooed with a kick to her ribs.

Grunting from the blow, Shade ignored him, forcing herself to stand. Shivering from pain and cold, she reached deep in her psyche for the will to summon a portal. Weaving on her feet, she called it forth, thankfully falling into the chaos the instant it appeared. She floated, her body lax from the pain.

Landing on her back, she tried to hold back her scream as the wounds met the soft as satin comforter on the bed. Panting with the effort to swallow back more pained sounds, she flopped over to her side and finally her stomach, letting the cool air wash over her skin. It was painful, but less painful than lying on her back.

She pressed her face into the duvet, tears leaking down her face. She’d brought this on herself by trying to be tricky and outmaneuver her superiors. She’d known Luther was going to call her in when the target didn’t die. She’d known the punishment was going to be bad, but she’d hoped for more time to come to a decision about the target.

Suddenly the air was filled with the sounds of an alarm. A siren wailed into the stillness of her room. Gathering her willpower, she rolled to her feet, shoulders hunched slightly. One deep breath. Two deep breaths. And she was able to stand upright, clenching her teeth to hold back a grunt.

Walking was torture. There was nothing to help that. She needed to find out what was going on and help if she could. Teetering on shaky legs, she found another shirt, biting back a cry as she pulled it on. She wished she would’ve had time to at least treat the burns as the shirt would stick to them, but wishes weren’t for her. Grabbing her retractable sword and throwing knives, she strode out the door.

*****

Malachi was in the great room when the alarms went off. Striding to his security command center, he nodded to Callas, who was speaking into his earpiece.

“We have twenty-five intruders,” Callas informed Malachi as he deftly switched the security cameras to show the force fighting the outside guards. “They came through the garden.”

Frowning at the monitors, Malachi watched as one-by-one, his guards were felled. His hands fisted. The guards weren’t for more than the appearance of security. They weren’t well-trained, or even bright, but he hadn’t been able to force them into the limbo between the Veilerian and Eturian societies. He’d taken them in, showed them how to keep watch, and left them alone.

“How did they get past the wards?” he asked Callas. Like any intelligent landowner, he’d had his land warded within an inch of his life and they should’ve held considering how much he’d spent on them.

“They’ve either got a witch or a warmage with them,” Callas said apologetically. “It would have taken time to break the ward, but if they’ve been at it long enough, it could happen.”

“I’m going to help them,” Malachi stated with another glance at the monitor. He couldn’t sit back and watch his people get hurt trying to protect him.

Stalking from the room, he bypassed several frantic servants. Commanding them to the panic room in the cellar, he raced upstairs to find Tia and Lani.

Tia was standing in her doorway, head cocked to the side.

“They won’t get inside,” she said confidently as he hurried towards her.

He stopped at her words. “They won’t?”

She shook her head. “There won’t be much of them left soon. If you don’t hurry, you won’t get any.”

“What the-” he began as he turned back down the hall. Who would be able to demolish a force that size?

A sudden scream of pain from outside made him forget about wondering who it was. He needed to save his people. Stopping on the fifteenth stair, he tapped on a panel in the woodwork. Smiling in satisfaction as it slid back to reveal a cache of weapons, he chose two knives and a sword.

Hurrying down the remaining steps, he threw open the front door. At first, his eyes had to adjust to the blazing ball of sun as it hovered above the skyline. Dawn was breaking, casting strange shadows over the front lawn. He slipped the knives into his belt loops. He hadn’t been prepared for this confrontation and he cursed himself for not being dressed more appropriately.

“This is what happens when you become complacent, old boy,” he murmured as he turned his head left, then right, looking for the invaders.

A body hurtled around the corner of the house. Dark and hulking, it paused when it saw Malachi standing in the doorway looking like a relaxed lord of the manor. The pause didn’t last long though as it shot across the lawn, straight for him.

Teeth gleaming in a parody of a smile, Malachi met his attacker, not caring the demon was over a foot taller than he. Flipping the demon to the ground in a move too swift for him to counter, Malachi had the sword buried in its chest.

Sounds of fighting tickled his ears, drawing him to the corner of the house. Lani was there, moving like a phantom around a group of eight demons. They were lightning fast, striking out at her with massive fists and uttered spells, but she was faster. Malachi gaped, not sure he was even needed.

As he watched, one demon fell to the ground with a gurgling cry, blood from his slit throat spraying his comrades. Another demon cried out as his distraction cost him his life. He too fell to the ground.

“Spread out!” one of the more intelligent demons shouted, finally figuring out Lani was taking them out one-by-one because they were all crowded together.

They still hadn’t noticed him, so Malachi strode forward, exchanging his sword for the knives. Thus armed, he leapt into the fray, stabbing one demon in the heart while slitting another’s throat. That was four down, four to go.

Shade paused to watch the target fight. She’d always assumed he sent his minions out to fight for him, but that assumption was completely unjustified. He moved like liquid silk, changing position to stab one demon while grappling with another. He didn’t appear to take much satisfaction in the killings, though he never slowed his deadly dance across the lawn.

Gravel crunching under foot was all the warning Shade had as a battle-axe whistled over her head. Dropping to the ground and kicking her legs out, she crushed the demon’s testicles. He let out a high-pitched gasp as he fell. Flipping to her feet, Shade grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head back.

“Who do you work for?” she hissed at him, her knife perched on his Adams apple. If Luther had sent someone to finish her job after that little interlude at his house, she’d geld him.

His throat bobbed under her blade as tears of fear leaked from his eyes. “Roberts, Sharon Roberts,” he whispered, his eyes widening as he caught something behind Shade.

Letting go of her captive and rolling in the opposite direction, she saw the intelligent demon lob off the head of her captive. Knowing it hadn’t been an accident, but a calculated kill, Shade sprang to her feet with knife in hand.

The intelligent demon smiled coldly. “You won’t have time to share that information with anyone, fairy.” He hefted his axe in his hands. “I’ve always wanted to split a fairy and see if magic dust spilled out.”

“And I’ve always wanted to have a demon head as a car ornament. It’s too bad for both of us, we don’t always get what we want,” she retorted, ducking under the axe.

It caught her though, a sharp pain tearing over her shoulder and down her arm. Hissing, she ignored the injury. Evading the swinging axe, she managed to step into him, burying her knife in his heart. Twisting it for good measure, she pushed the demon away.

“Nice,” the target said from behind her.

Turning carefully to avoid pulling at her burns, Shade faced the target wondering how he’d managed to fight so viciously yet keep his hair from being mussed up.

“You didn’t do too bad yourself.”

“How many left?” he asked as he glanced around the lawn.

“I think these were the last unless some got by me and your guards.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Let’s go take a look,” he suggested, bowing slightly and gesturing her to lead the way.

Shade would’ve shrugged in pretended indifference, but the wounds on her back and the new slice on her shoulder made movement difficult. She hadn’t felt the burns so much while battle lust roared through her, but now the fight was over, the pain was excruciating. She stalked ahead of him, digging her fingernails into her palms to keep from letting out pained sounds.

She shouldn’t have fought so hard, but something had demanded she protect the target. The group of demons had attacked in a specific pattern, going for the weaker guards first, and overpowering the more experienced once. When she’d arrived on the scene, the demons had lost only four, while the target’s guards were down nine.

The sight of the helpless Halflings had brought forth the fury she’d always kept in careful check. She’d fought with the more experienced guards, helping them bring down twelve more demons. The remaining had run for the front of the house. Shade had ordered the guards to help their fallen and hurried after them.

“Master,” a voice called, snapping Shade out of her reverie. One of the target’s guards stood at attention, his ruddy face filled with outrage and pain. “We lost twelve.”

“Damn,” the target bit out, his face suddenly looking weary. He gripped the guard’s shoulder. “I want their names and familial information. I’ll take care of them.”

“Yes, master,” the guard said humbly. “If it hadn’t been for the fairy, we’d probably all be dead.” He turned to Shade, bowing deeply. “You have my deepest thanks, milady.”

Shade nodded, not wanting to make more of it than it was. How could she, when she’d been sent to kill their leader just as the demons had?

“Get this cleaned up. Call Maia and have her tend the injured. I’ll find someone to reinforce the wards,” the target ordered, nodding when the guard bowed again before hurrying off.

He sighed, his face lined with pain as he watched the guards gently lift their fallen friends. “I hate war, Lani. It’s ugly and it makes no damn sense.”

Shade didn’t answer since she happened to agree with him. In spite of the life she led, she hated the violence in which they lived, but praying for peace was hopeless.

“You don’t say much, do you?” he asked harshly as the silence stretched between them.

She gave a brief shake of her head. Now that the excitement had passed, her body was feeling every ache and pain. Shade needed to get to the privacy of her room before she passed out. She didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of this male.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to clean my weapons,” she said coldly, turning on her heel and walking away.

She felt his eyes piercing her back as she walked into the house, but she didn’t slow. Black dots danced in her vision again. She had a very limited time before she lost consciousness.