Burning Dawn (Angels of the Dark #3)(92)
Author: Gena Showalter

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THANE FOUGHT TO remain conscious. Ricker had freed Kendra, and the two had chained him to the bed. Kendra had wanted to kill him, and Ricker, who was clearly in the throes of her poison, had wanted to please her, but besides binding him and stabbing him a second time, neither had made a move to end him.

“What has made you like this, Kendra?” Thane asked her.

“So amazing?” she replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“So…twisted.”

A flash of vulnerability in her eyes, gone so swiftly he wanted to convince himself he’d imagined it—he couldn’t.

“Do you really want to hear the sob story of the poor little princess ignored by her entire clan, so desperate for affection she gave herself to a rival king at the age of fourteen, and he passed her around to his troops? Well, I’m not that little girl anymore. I’ve learned to take what I want. The clan. Men. It doesn’t matter.”

He should have seen. Should have realized. She had a past more terrible than his own, and he’d only added to her problems. “I’m sorry,” he said, and this, too, he meant.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry!” By the end, her voice was a screech. “He’s going to hurt you so bad, and I’m going to love every minute of it.”

“Who is he?”

Her lips twisted cruelly. “Your worst nightmare.”

“Is that what I am?” said a voice Thane recognized. “I always considered myself a forbidden fantasy.”

Thane tensed.

The prince.

Malice glided into the room. A white robe draped his body. Pretending to be a Sent One? It was a known fact: fallen angels were insanely jealous of Sent Ones.

Thane fought his bonds. Bjorn. Xerxes. Since being stabbed, he’d tried to call them at least ten times, but neither had responded. He’d tried to call Zacharel, too. The prince is here. Take the women and leave. Now. Again, there was no response.

Dread cut through him, sharper than the blade. They would never block him and never purposely ignore him. Which meant they had to be…incapacitated. Yes. Incapacitated, not dead.

And if they were incapacitated, the women…

No. No!

“Look what we did,” Kendra said, grinning as she motioned to Thane. “Just like you told us.”

“It’s not too late,” Thane told her. “You can help me, and I can help you.”

“I don’t need help.” But the beginnings of indecision stirred in her eyes.

“You did well,” the prince said to the princess. “You have a problem, however. I no longer have any use for you.” He placed a hand on both Kendra’s and Ricker’s brows. Striations of black appeared on their cheeks…down their necks… Their eyes rolled back, revealing the whites. Their bodies began to shake and shake…and when the shaking stopped, their skin was…stone? The black had spread, covering the pair from head to toe, creating a high-gloss sheen.

Thane had never seen anything like it.

The prince opened his hands, and the pair fell to the ground, nothing more than a pile of dust.

The evil power such an act required…more than Thane had ever witnessed. And completely unnecessary. With a little time, he could have reached her. Now, it was too late.

Malice grinned. “Your greatest enemies will never regenerate. You’re welcome.”

“That is the difference between us. I no longer had any desire for vengeance.”

The prince narrowed his eyes. “You lie.”

“And you are so afraid to face me, you had to stoop to this.”

Amused again, rather than insulted, the prince said, “You mock, and yet my battle strategy far surpassed yours.” He shrugged. “Did you try to summon your two favorite boy toys the way you Sent Ones like to do? Well, I’m sad to say they won’t be responding. Both are currently dead.”

His worst suspicion…confirmed.

Though the prince hadn’t touched him, he felt as if his heart had just turned to stone inside his chest. Cracks formed, before the petrified organ burst into countless shards, cutting him. “You are the liar.” Demons enjoyed twisting the truth. He couldn’t forget.

“Hardly. You taste the truth of my words, I’m sure. I ran into Bjorn outside, and Xerxes in the hallway. Both had very weak bone structure…and when I left them, both had holes in their chests.”

“No!” The word roared from Thane, a denial that sprang from deep, deep inside, where survival met the core of his being. The thought of losing his friends… No.

“Oh, yes.”

“I taste no lie—you’re right about that. You left them with broken bones and holes in their chests. But that doesn’t mean they’re dead. They’ve recovered from worse.”

Irritated, Malice snapped, “Time will tell.” Then he calmed and added, “They distracted you from our game…as did your female.”

Thane renewed his struggles, his flesh biting into the metal cuffs. What little strength he had left rapidly drained. “Don’t touch her. Don’t you dare touch her.”

The prince patted his cheek, and the contact blistered more than an acid bath. “Oh, I touched her. And more. I can hardly wait to show you the end result of my actions.”

The relish in his tone was frightening, but his words were downright terrifying. “What did you do?” Thane croaked. “What did you do!”

“Don’t worry, Sent One. She’ll live.”

Again, he tasted no lie. He sagged against the mattress. He could deal with anything except her death.

Malice stalked around the bed, once, twice. “Your army is on its way. Did you know that? Did you call them? Your friends did. But my minions will hold the warriors off until I’m finished here.”

So cocky. “You underestimate our strength.”

A tinkling laugh. “Surely you see the irony of your statement.”

He did. But he didn’t care.

He’d spent his life bucking against the authority of a leader—any leader. That was how he’d ended up with Zacharel, the coldest of the cold, part of an army the rest of their world considered one step above useless and best forgotten.

Those soldiers would fight for him and those he loved with the same fervency as Bjorn and Xerxes. Like Elin, they had become his family.

“You don’t stand a chance,” Thane said confidently.

Malice waved the words away. “I’ll be long gone before your friends are even able to enter the castle.” His ear twitched, and he nodded with satisfaction. “Excellent. I think your Elin is on her way.”