Betrayed (53 page)

Do something, Lil,
Izzy begged.

I glanced at her and found her fighting tears.

Everyone’s face was set, their bodies tense. But their eyes al begged me to take control. Turning, I caught Valafar’s gaze. He wore an expectant look.

caught Valafar’s gaze. He wore an expectant look.

What did he have to be so eager about? His men, except Dante, wore the same expression. Dante touched his lips, got up, and slipped out of the room.

I had no idea where he went, didn’t real y care. Al I wanted was Bran alive.

Boos came from the field. I whipped around, and my heart sank. Andros was one of those nature-benders who created
omnis.
Smoke snaked from the tip of Bran’s right wing, indicating he’d been hit already. No wonder Valafar and his men smirked with glee. The nature-bender was going to win.

Not if I can do anything about it.

Excitement over the pending kil saturated the air. The demons might have rooted for Bran, the underdog, but this whole stupid combat was a sport for them—they needed a victor, a conqueror, and I had a feeling they didn’t care anymore who won. My breath caught in a sob as I searched for a solution.

Please, Bran. Link with me,
I screamed. But I might as wel be talking to a dead person. He was slower teleporting and seemed ready to keel over every time he materialized.

Sure of his victory, Andros lobbed two
omnis
at Bran. The sizzling red core coiling like tiny little snakes, the flares on the edges snapping and snarling, they gathered speed until they blurred. My heart stopped, but my psi kicked into overdrive.

Adrenaline swel ing in my veins, I screamed.

Freeze.
The deadly energy bal s stopped as though they hit a barrier, the flares flowing past the core like the tail of a comet. They dangled in the air between Bran, who stood glued to the spot, and Andros. The demon preened in the air, his bat-like wings lifting and fal ing in a rhythmic pattern until he realized the
omnis
had stopped. He hol ered in disbelief.

My gaze col ided with Valafar’s, his amused, mine probably defiant. He knew what I was doing.

Knew but didn’t care. Why? Realization hit me. His smirk had nothing to do with Andros winning. He smiled because I was doing exactly what he planned. Whatever it was, I didn’t care anymore. I’d rather be his prized possession than let Bran die.

My gaze returned to Andros.

Let’s see how you like this.
I whipped the
omnis
back at the nature-bender. Rage contorted his face. He backed up, ducked, and dodged as the energy bal s careened after him. My gaze swung to Bran. He swayed on his feet. His wings retracted, but his gaze didn’t leave Andros. He attempted to lift his right hand, but it dropped uselessly to his side.

Pain pinched every muscle in my body, and my heart grew heavy with horror. That was the hand he used to mummify demons. If he couldn’t lift it, he couldn’t use his powers. Sweat pouring down his face, his breathing shal ow, he tried to prop it up with his left hand.

Lil.
My name was a whisper fil ed with pain, resignation and love.

I’m here.
I shifted to the edge of my seat, my heart in my mouth.

Love you…always,
he said disjointedly.

I scowled. He sounded like he’d given up.

Bran?
No response.
Bran!

Sorry…failed…,
he added.

The screams from the crowd temporarily yanked my attention away from him. Andros and five astral projections of him zoomed toward Bran, their eyes red with fury, larger
omnis
in their hands. The images were so identical it was impossible to tel which one was the real demon. Terror sank its teeth into me, my heartbeat loud and clear in my ears.

Bran watched the many Andros swoop down, a helpless expression on his face.

I wasn’t going to let him die. Pictures of Bran flashed in my head in quick succession. Bran waiting for me outside my school, at home, at HQ, on top of the mountain, laughing, fighting…. Light exploded in my head. Warmth expanded in my chest, and calmness drifted through me. With it came clarity, confidence.

Focusing, I studied the projections. Al paled except one. The real Andros was on Bran’s right.

Locking on the demon, I let him have it. Ribbons of lightning bolts appeared in the air and slammed into his body, whipping him up and around as he absorbed the energy until his tattoos gleamed like a tapestry on fire. My eyes connected with Valafar’s triumphant ones again, hating him with every fiber in my body. Defeat felt sour in my mouth. He won. By saving Bran, I just sealed my fate.

Tears crested in my eyes, but I was determined not to let them fal and blinked hard.

Succeeding, I gave his minion a second dose of bolts with such precision Master Haziel would approve if he saw it. Andros imploded and the crowd approve if he saw it. Andros imploded and the crowd went wild as the stadium lit up like a Fourth of July fireworks show. Bran dropped to his knees then plopped sideways.

I got to my feet to teleport to his side, my movement a little sluggish, but Valafar was beside me, his large hand gripping my upper arm like an iron cuff.

“You’re not going anywhere, Lilith,” he said in a soft yet firm voice.

“At least let me say goodbye to him,” I begged.

“It’s better this way.” His voice was cold and unrelenting.

My first instinct was to teleport anyway, but I realized he’d go with me and finish Bran off.

Defiance came from somewhere deep inside me, and I jerked my arm. His fingers dug deeper into my flesh. I tried to lock on his psi energy, but needle-sharp pain seared across my head. He was draining my energy, deliberately weakening me. I fought him, pushing back his hostile invasion until he stopped.

But the damage was done. Dizziness washed over me. Through a haze, I saw my friends’ hands inch inside their boots, coats. They were reaching for their weapons.

No, don’t,
I telepathed them al .
He’ll kill you.

I didn’t know whether they heard me or not, adding to my despair.

“How did he do that? When did Bran acquire lightning ability?” Solange cried out in a whiny voice like a child denied her treat.

“He doesn’t have it,” Valafar said, grinning.

“Lilith kil ed Andros. I’l make sure the High Council crowns her as the winner, the queen of the Hermonites.”

Before I could respond, a slight quiver rippled through the floor. Frowning, I looked around.

“What was that?” Solange screeched.

It happened again, and the surface of the orange juice Valafar’s minion offered me shook, too.

The tremors grew stronger, as though we stood at the epicenter of an earthquake.

The Kris Dagger.

The pulse from the blade reached me across the fake grass, steel, and concrete.
Come to me,
I ordered but there was no need. The spectators were on their feet, pointing and staring. My gaze flew to the field. A fissure appeared where Bran lay. Green light seeped through it and lit up the air around him.

Heal him,
I commanded the dagger, hope returning.

The bril iant green light bent like a rainbow and wrapped around Bran until he disappeared under the glow. Demons knew what that green glow meant—Guardians. The smart ones disappeared from their boxes, teleporting out of the stadium. The stupid ones stayed and watched with fascination.

“Is that…?” Solange’s voice trailed off, her eyes wide.

“My dagger,” I said with pride, smiling.

“It can’t be,” Valafar roared, composure cracking. Disbelief twisted his features as he glared at the field. Immediately, his face shifted into a mask of false calmness, but he couldn’t hide his feelings from me. Fear rose like a tidal wave from him and slammed into my psyche.

He whipped around and jerked his head toward the door. “Get them out of here and finish them off,” he instructed his minions like a dril sergeant.

“No,” I protested and tried to jerk my arm free from his hand.

His fingers tensed, digging deeper into my flesh. I tried to get inside his head again, but it was useless. Watching my friends led out like lambs to slaughter, I broke out in a cold sweat. “Don’t hurt them. I’l go with you and do whatever you want. Just let them go.”

“Don’t worry about us, Lil,” Remy cal ed out.

“This is how it’s meant to end tonight.”

“With death and mayhem,” Sykes added, smirking.

They were prepared to fight. I saw it in their eyes. They just didn’t want to do it in Valafar’s presence. Good. A surge of adrenaline shot through my veins.

As soon as they disappeared out the door, I locked onto the dagger Kenta left inside my boot and tried to pul it out. It moved then stopped. I blew out air and tried again. I couldn’t afford to fail. Valafar might have weakened me, but I stil had enough juice left. Straining, head hurting, I got the upper hand, yanked the knife out, and directed it at Valafar’s back.

He jerked and the dagger flipped and He jerked and the dagger flipped and changed directions. The next second, the blade sunk into my shoulder. Pain shot to my spine, and I cried out. Wetness soaked the sleeve of my shirt. Locking onto the knife again, I ground my teeth, wrenched it out, and dropped it on the chair. A whimper escaped me again.

Valafar chuckled softly. “You never give up, do you, Lilith? It might get tiresome at times, but that’s something I admire about you. You have a fighting spirit.”

“Yet you want to squash it by chaining me to your side,” I said through the pain. “No matter where you take me, I’l escape.”

“You’l adapt,” Valafar said with calm certainty. “We’re leaving. Come along, Solange.” Solange’s eyes narrowed rebel iously.

“Lap dog, that’s al you are to him,” I said, hoping to goad her into fighting back and buying me more time. “What happened to your bragging? When are you going to show him what you’re made of?” Her eyes clung to Valafar’s face, her expression timid. “What about the chal enge level, father?”

“There was never a chal enge level,” he said in an unhurried voice. “Lil did exactly what I expected her to do.”

“But you said there’d be a chal enge level,” Solange insisted.

“He lied, Solange,” I cut in. “He manipulated you just like he did me. How can you stil trust him?

He asked you to kil Zedekiah, Bran, and Gavyn to fool us when what he real y wanted was for Bran to sign the contract.”

“Zedekiah?” Valafar asked, rage shooting from him. “We’l discuss your disobedience later, daughter,” he told Solange. “Now, fol ow us.”

“Not so fast, Valafar. Let her go.”

B ra n .
He stood inside the sliding door looking pasty, his knuckles taut as he clenched a Guardian sword. Where did the sword come from? I wanted to run to him, touch him, and confirm he was okay, but Valafar’s grip tightened. My fingers tingled from lack of blood.

“Don’t think you can stop me, boy,” he sneered.

“We had a deal. Let her go,” Bran demanded, stepping further into the room. Kim and Izzy appeared beside him, each holding a dagger stil wet with demon blood, bodies tense for action and eyes on Valafar. Where were Sykes and Remy?

“You didn’t win anything.” Valafar shot Bran a disdainful look. “Lilith helped you, and I’l make sure the Hermonite Council knows it.” He pul ed me closer. “Lilith is the winner of the combat battle, the queen of the Hermonites.”

“No,” Solange screamed, pul ing out the Red Athame and stepping away from us. “I wil be the queen. There must be a chal enge level. I’l fight you.” She pointed the dagger at Bran, hesitated, and swung it toward me. “Or you.”

Valafar stiffened. “What are you doing with
that
?” he asked coldly.

Solange’s hand trembled. “It chose me. Last night before you arrived, it cal ed to me from the vault and when I picked it up, we bonded. It’s mine now,” she finished defiantly.

“You can’t wield that weapon, you sil y girl. Put it away,” he ordered.

Solange wavered and appeared ready to obey. Then she lifted her chin, her eyes flashing and her hand steady on the hilt. “No, I won’t. In your eyes, I’l always be second best to her. Not to my people.

With Coronis’ dagger, the Hermonites wil accept me as their queen. I wil become powerful, unstoppable. Let her go, so I can finish her off.” A loud explosion rocked the complex. My eyes flew to the field just as a huge mass of concrete and steel sprouted from the field like a cannon bal and shot through the air. It hovered in the air then plummeted back down on the field beside the crater it shot through. It was the vault, propel ed through the building’s steel and concrete foundation by the power of the Kris Dagger. Green light shot from its hinges as the dagger strained to escape. The same light had seeped through the cracks and saved Bran’s life.

Remy and Sykes materialized beside the vault. While Remy used his ability to manipulate solids to open the vault, Sykes stood guard and smirked while bouncing an alpha energy bal , the blue core expanding. He was probably hoping the remaining demons stil in the stadium would chal enge him.

The door of the vault opened, and the dagger flew out, the blade glowing like a fal en star. Chaos flew out, the blade glowing like a fal en star. Chaos broke out as the remaining demons screamed and teleported or hid. Solange dove behind a chair.

Valafar yanked his sword from its scabbard and laid it across my stomach, sandwiching me with it.

The dagger sped toward us. The light shooting from it melted a giant hole on the screen covering the luxury box, and in it floated and stopped before me. I reached for the hilt, but the thin edge of Valafar’s sword pressed against me. A flick of his wrist and it could sever me into two, thick Guardian clothes or not.

“Don’t touch it,” Valafar warned fiercely.

“This is one battle you won’t win, Valafar,” Bran warned. “The dagger
will
destroy you to protect her.”

“Not if she doesn’t order it,” he said.

The dagger moved before I could command it until it was horizontal, the tip pointing at me. My eyes wide, my gaze connected with Bran’s. He wore a smug smile. Swal owing, not sure what to expect, I watched the dagger move away from my face, as though seeking a better position to attack Valafar.