Wicked Nights (Angels of the Dark #1)(45)
Author: Gena Showalter

Koldo studied the food for a long, silent moment before shifting his gaze to Thane. “I will tell you why I wanted the Water if you swear never to breathe a word of what you hear.”

Vows were sacred among their kind. Thane often felt as if he were a man lacking any sort of honor, that there was nothing he wouldn’t do, no line he wouldn’t cross, but that wasn’t exactly true. He never broke his vows, and he never would. “I so swear.”

A beat of stilted silence, then, “Zacharel was dying. The girl swore to keep him out of the heavens for one month if I healed him. I knew the Water was the only thing that would save him, and so I procured it for him.”

He absorbed the warrior’s words, trying to reason things out, failing. “Why a month?”

“I needed time to heal. Time to search…to act.”

The potency of the warrior’s relish left no doubt that the “act,” whatever it was, would involve bloodshed. “Tell me.”

“Your oath of secrecy extends to this?”

Meaning, he would not mention this discussion even to Bjorn or Xerxes. “It does.”

Koldo gave the slightest of nods. “Everyone thinks a demon removed my wings all those years ago, and I allow them to think this because I do not want to answer any questions about the truth.”

“But the truth is…what?” Thane asked, knowing Koldo would answer him. Not because he had given his vow of silence, but because the truth was a poison inside of him, a poison he was desperate to expunge.

“An angel took my wings, and I plan to kill her.”

Thane had questioned why the stoic Koldo, the unflappable, unbendable warrior anyone and everyone could rely on, had been assigned to this last-chance army. He’d heard rumors about a supposed beating Koldo had rendered, but he’d never seen the male worked into any kind of temper. Now he fit a few puzzle pieces together. Whether the beating had happened or not, Koldo was a part of Zacharel’s army because of the vengeful purpose in his heart.

“If Zacharel so much as suspected, he would try and stop you.”

“Yes.”

“And you do not think I will try and stop you?”

There was no hesitation when Koldo replied with, “No, I do not. You know the value of retaliation.”

Actually, he knew the hopelessness. After his rescue from the dungeon, after his body had healed, Thane, Bjorn and Xerxes had returned. Three days and three nights were spent locked in a vicious battle for rights to that dungeon. Oh, they could have killed the demons inside, torched the place and ended things in an hour, but they hadn’t wanted that. Hadn’t wanted their captors to die quickly or easily.

And so they hadn’t. The three of them had taken the dungeon, leaving everyone inside alive. The pain-filled screams still sometimes echoed inside Thane’s mind. But he did not feel any better about the past…and he knew his boys did not feel better about themselves.

“You will do what you feel you must,” he finally said. “I will not tell Zacharel.” He paused, head tilting to the side. “Who is she, this woman who betrayed you?”

“That, I will not tell you.”

“Because you think I would shield her. Interesting. I must know her. No matter, though. Here’s something I’m sure you will learn about me. I love two men, and no others.” There wasn’t room in the small chambers of his heart for anyone else. “Your female is nothing to me.”

Silence.

He sighed. “You will let me know if there is anything I can do to aid you in your quest.” A demand.

“There is nothing. I must do this alone. She hides from me, and I will allow no one else to drag her from the shadows. I will be the one to unearth her.”

Understood. “Very well. I will leave you to—” He trailed off as a sense of foreboding suddenly struck him, followed by a flash of images through his mind. He and Zacharel must have maintained a strong mental link, because he could feel his leader’s dread and fury.

Zacharel, he said, projecting his voice into his leader’s mind. So much for keeping his mental distance.

Nothing, no response.

Zacharel, what’s going on?

Again no response.

Was Zacharel ignoring him? Or too injured to respond?

“I must go,” he told Koldo. He would have to track the angel the old-fashioned way.

“There is trouble?”

“Worry not, for this is not something that concerns you,” he evaded. He would not have the man worrying when there was nothing he could do. “I will return when I’m able.”

* * *

ANNABELLE STOOD IN THE center of the slaughter, winded yet buzzing with adrenaline. Black blood formed multiple rivers around her. She rubbed at her chest, hoping to finally ease the burn that had begun to blaze inside the cavern, when Zacharel had… When he’d… Even now the burn increased, and she rubbed harder.

Don’t think about it. Right now, demonic bodies were piled around her, the scent of rotten eggs thick in the air, pungent enough to make her gag. Yeah. She’d think about that. It was far more pleasant.

Zacharel had produced his sword of fire and gone to town on each of the monsters, allowing none to escape. To her surprise, he’d also placed two blades in her hands when she’d dropped her own, her last, enabling her to continue fighting.

And fight she had, the sharp metal tips slicking through jugulars, midsections and even the backs of knees, hobbling her prey for easier elimination. What she’d lacked in skill she’d made up for in creativity and determination.

“Are you injured?” Zacharel demanded, stomping across the motionless, headless bodies to reach her.

Before he could think to take back his blades, she shoved them through the slits in her pockets and into the sheaths strapped to her thighs. “I’m fine.” Yes, she was cut up and bleeding, and yes, one of her ankles was twisted and throbbing, but she would hurt like this forever if it meant defeating her enemy. “You?”

He looked her over, judging the truth of her words for himself. At the same time, she looked him over. He was just as blood soaked as she was, with sweat trickling down his temples, his robe soaked to his skin.

“I’m well enough. Come, we must clean you up.” He offered his hand to her.

To his credit, he didn’t force her to link her fingers with his but waited for her to initiate contact on her own. She licked her lips, wishing there were some other way to leave this place. But he’d just uttered the only words that could have made a difference. Clean up. The blackened blood singed her skin, and already she had welts.