Burning Dawn (Angels of the Dark #3)(46)
Author: Gena Showalter

“My king,” Ricker said, affronted. “Kendra is more than my wife. She is your consort’s niece. Surely that means something to—”

“My concubine is dead, killed by her own family. The rest of them can rot,” Ardeo spat. “Besides, your wife was poisoning you. You would have become her slave if I hadn’t forced you to leave the camp with me. You would do well to send Thane a fruit basket in thanks for his part in your liberation.”

Ricker nodded stiffly, but his eyes threw a new dagger of hatred at Thane.

Message received. This wasn’t the end.

Ardeo looked to Thane. “Your terms are acceptable.”

He tasted no lie.

“You must give us the halfling, as well.” Orson, the one Bellorie had killed, tugged on a pair of pants as he closed the distance, his regeneration complete. A dark, twisted look had marred his face as he’d made the demand—one Thane knew well. He’d seen it in the mirrored walls of the Downfall, every time he’d gone in search of a lover.

“Halfling?” Thane asked.

“A female named Elin.”

Elin. Thane’s Elin. Rage clawed at him. The warrior wants her. He wants what’s mine.

He dies.

Thane held out his hand to summon a sword of fire. Then the warrior’s words penetrated the haze of jealousy, and his arm fell to his side.

Elin was a halfling? Half human, half…what? Phoenix? Captured because she was considered an abomination, never permitted to procreate—a practice the Phoenix were known for.

No. No! She was not a tricky, conniving Phoenix, able to enslave every male she bedded—able to enslave him.

But what if she was…

Emotion welled inside him. More rage. Disgust, sorrow and, worst of all, bone-crushing fear. If she was Phoenix, he would never again be able to touch her. Never again see her. She would no longer be welcomed in his club.

He would lose the sweetest part of his life.

Abruptly, the sorrow overshadowed all else, even the fear. He could feel a roar brewing at the back of his throat. Not knowing what else to do, he stepped into the spirit realm, where the Phoenix couldn’t see or hear him, threw his head back and let the sound loose. His entire body shook with the force.

When he quieted, several rays of light managed to penetrate the darkness of his reaction. Elin screamed at the sight of blood. She baked terrible cakes, and enjoyed digging in the dirt. She laughed. She teased. She was nothing like Kendra and her fire-witch friends.

Thane began to calm.

Elin might be a halfling, but she certainly wasn’t Phoenix. Her people were probably at war with the Phoenix. Yes. That fit. For all he knew, she was part banshee. That scream…

Completely reassured, he returned to the natural realm.

The Phoenix were in the process of demanding Xerxes and Bjorn go get him, wherever he’d gone, and his friends were in the process of standing still and quiet, arms crossed over their chests.

He wanted to rapid-fire different questions about Elin but didn’t. Revealing vulnerability was foolish.

“The girl,” Orson barked, jumping back into the conversation.

“Trust me. You don’t want to travel that road,” Bjorn told him.

“The only fork you’ll come to,” Xerxes added, “is the one leading to Pain and Destruction.”

Orson ignored the males, saying, “Do you have her or not?”

Thane once again held out his hand, and this time, a sword of fire formed. The flames crackled menacingly. “With your words, you negate our deal. Therefore, I will offer you a new one. After I discover what each of your people did to my human—” my halfling “—I will mete out proper punishments. Then you may have your people back. If they regenerate.”

“Dirty winger!” Orson spat.

“Let it be known,” Thane said with absolutely zero inflection. Only cold, hard truth. “Hurt what’s mine, touch what’s mine, even desire what’s mine, and suffer.”

For a moment, Ardeo’s eyes cleared of the fog. He peered at Thane with newfound respect. And envy.

“Very well,” the king of the Phoenix said, giving up the battle to remain on his feet and plopping to the ground. “Your human was kind to me. Kind to my precious Malta. She is yours to do with as you please.” His shoulders slumped. “As Malta was once mine.”

The liquor wasn’t ruining him, Thane realized—it was merely a symptom. The true culprit was grief. The man had finally gotten Malta in his bed—but she was killed a few days later. He’d tasted heaven, and then he’d lost it.

“Until we meet again.” With a last warning look at the seething Orson, Thane flared his wings and returned to the sky.

Remove the prisoners from the stakes, and lock them in the cells, he projected. He would have liked to do it himself, but the time to face Zacharel for his part in the destruction of the Rathbone building had come. I have an errand. I shouldn’t be gone long.

Bjorn and Xerxes didn’t know about the meeting or what would be done to him, and that was the way he would keep it.

Consider it done, Xerxes said.

You don’t have to worry— Bjorn stopped, hovering in the middle of a sun-drenched cloud. Thane and Xerxes had to backtrack. The warrior’s face was pained. I must go. He glanced over his shoulder. She’s— He pressed his lips together.

She? Thane looked but saw no evidence of…what? The shadow demons? Or had his friend been summoned by their queen?

I’m sorry, but I can say no more without breaking my vow. Bjorn, his features tormented, vanished.

Thane bit his tongue until he tasted blood. The Lord of the Underworld, Lucien, has the ability to follow a person’s spiritual trail, he said to Xerxes. After my errand, I’ll hire him to follow Bjorn.

Good plan.

Lucien was the keeper of the demon of Death, responsible for escorting certain souls to the hereafter. He was a good man. Honest. Honorable. Rules mattered to him.

“I’ll see you soon.” Thane branched to the right.

Xerxes called out, stopping him. “What about the girl?”

“She is to be protected at all costs.” When he returned, he would talk to her. She would assure him of her ancestry.

All would be well.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ANOTHER WHIPPING, YES. That was what Thane expected. Or, finally, the end of his immortality. He would have begged for another change. Instead, when he came to rest at the edge of Zacharel’s cloud, the leader of the Army of Disgrace was waiting for him. He cupped the back of Thane’s neck and pressed their foreheads together, the wind blustering around them.