The Darkest Passion (Lords of the Underworld #5)(96)
Author: Gena Showalter

Uncertain, Olivia placed her weight on her left foot, then her right. They held. A sigh of relief parted her lips—and made her cringe. Her lips were cut and the action, small as it had been, split the abrasions apart.

“I can’t leave without the Cloak,” she said. “Where is—”

“Impossible. Galen keeps it with him at all times. The only way to get it is to confront him, and you won’t survive if you do that.”

Dominic was right. She didn’t have the strength to defeat Galen. But she couldn’t leave that Cloak in his possession. Someone else could be taken by him. And would be. Galen wouldn’t hesitate, and he might not be so…lenient with the next person.

“Come on,” Dominic said, and with his arm around her waist, he led her toward the only door.

“Where’s Galen now?”

“Oh, no. I know what you’re thinking, but I already told you. We can’t do it. There’s just no way.”

“I have to try,” she said, letting her determination seep from her.

He stilled, closed his eyes. She could feel his heart banging against his ribs, erratic, too hard. “He’s here. Waiting. Impatient.” He laughed bitterly. “I tried to wake you sooner, but you were pretty out of it.”

If she left, Galen would leave this warehouse and never return to it, knowing she could bring the Lords here. She’d no longer know where to find him, and that was an edge she wouldn’t give up.

“I want you to go on without me,” she said. She spouted off directions to the fortress. “The Lords will spot you once you reach the hill. Ask for Aeron and tell him—”

“No.” Dominic shook his head. “How many times do I have to tell you? You can’t beat Galen. He’ll kill you before he parts with that Cloak. I’m dying, anyway, and don’t care if I do so here or somewhere else. But you…No,” he said again. “I won’t let you. I won’t die knowing I did nothing to help you.”

She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him anything needed to convince him to do as she wanted, but the sound of pounding footsteps and a distant shout stopped her.

Dominic stiffened. “He’s coming back to check on you,” he whispered, horrified. “Shit. Shit.” He dragged her to the door and pressed her against the wall next to it, where they would be hidden when that door opened.

“I can’t leave without the Cloak. I just can’t.”

Again Dominic closed his eyes, as if he were weighing his options. Only took a second, a second that seemed to drag into eternity, but when he opened them, there was more resolve banked in his expression than she’d ever seen in anyone before.

“The Cloak will be in his pocket. As it folds, it shrinks. It’s gray, soft. Grab it and run. Don’t look back. Just run. Okay?”

Like his, her heart was pounding against her ribs. Sweat was beading over her skin, her limbs were shaking and her mouth drying. “What about you?” He claimed he was ready to die, but she wasn’t ready to watch him do so. He was a nice kid who’d seen too many bad things in his short life. He deserved a happily ever after.

“I’ll handle Galen. Okay?” He pulled the other tie from his scrubs and there was a blade attached. His knuckles whitened as he clutched the hilt. “Just reach into his pockets, grab whatever you can and run.”

Pockets. Galen wore a robe just like Olivia’s, so she knew that there were three pockets. Two on the right and one on the left. It would be impossible to frisk all three at the same time. Still, she said, “Okay,” and prayed she chose correctly.

The door swung open, and Galen strode inside. He stopped in the center of the room, head swinging left and right to survey the empty gurneys. She didn’t think about her next actions, just propelled into him and slid her hands along his sides, into two of his pockets.

He cursed and tried to push her away. Perhaps Lysander was helping her, after all, because Galen did not succeed.

Her broken arm throbbed, the fingers swollen and slow to react to mental commands, but she grabbed everything she touched, turned and ran. Just ran. Just as Dominic had wanted. Fingers snagged in her hair and jerked, but she kept moving.

She passed the door, halfway expecting hard hands to settle on her shoulders or tangle in her hair again, but that never happened. Instead, she heard a shout, a roar of pain, and knew Dominic had just stabbed Galen.

A stabbing wouldn’t keep the immortal down for long.

Through the open doorways of the other rooms, several men raced into the hallway. As their confused, panicked gazes hit her, she increased her speed and peered down at her bounty. There, in the center of her palm, was a square of gray material.

Relief. Excitement. Yes, she experienced both. They gave her strength. Olivia dropped everything else, it wasn’t important right now, and shook the material out. Because of her inattention, she plowed into a solid wall of man.

The action jarred her, hurt her, but not enough to stop her from continuing to shake out the material as she fell. Just as the man bent down to grab her, she wrapped the Cloak around her shoulders.

One minute she could see her limbs, the next she couldn’t. Don’t even breathe. Be quiet.

All of the men spun, frowning, looking for her. They fired at where she’d been, but she’d already moved. She pressed against the wall, and they finally darted past her, shouting for help.

Galen stomped out of the room, blood spurting from his gut. He was scowling and dragging an unconscious—please, let him be alive—Dominic behind him.

“Where’d she go?” he demanded.

“I don’t know.”

“She just disappeared.”

Galen ran his tongue over his teeth. He dropped Dominic, who didn’t even utter a gasp. “She couldn’t have gotten far. She’s injured. Spread out and move toward the demons’ lair. That’s where she’s headed. If you feel anything you can’t see, shoot. If you hear a woman panting but can’t see her, shoot. Do you understand? I’m done playing nice. She has something that belongs to me. Do not set foot on the hill, though. The Lords will see you, and I’m not ready for that yet.”

A chorus of yeses rang out, and the men were off.

Galen stood there for a long while, popping his jaw, breathing deeply. Olivia didn’t dare risk an exhalation; she simply held the oxygen in her nose and waited. Finally, he stormed off, following behind the men.

She tiptoed forward and placed her fingers at Dominic’s neck. No pulse. Her chin trembled, and tears once again filled her eyes. He’d been ready to die, had wanted it even, but it still broke her heart. He’d never known joy. He should have known joy.