Bitter Night (36 page)

“We do not need to win.”

That caught the angel up short. He remained crouched, his wings lifted as if he would launch straight up into the sky. But he was curious now, and that tethered him as surely as any shackles would have. Alexander had counted on it.

“What do you need?”

Time. He needed time for Max. Alexander examined Tutresiel. How was he going to buy it?

He thought he knew what she was going to say to the angels. But it was not his place to speak for her, and he could be wrong. He settled for the tantalizing bit of truth he did know. “My Prime wants to talk to you. To both of you.”

Tutresiel’s livid eyes widened. “Talk? What could some puny Shadowblade have to say to me? Begging will do no good.”

“She does not beg,” Alexander snapped, his jaw jutting. “She has something to offer. If you will wait, I believe it will be worth your while.” He bit off each word, his teeth clicking together. “What do you have to lose but a little time?”

“The question is, what do I have to win?” Tutresiel countered as he stood with inhuman grace. “Anything you have I can take.”

Alexander shook his head slowly, a deadly smile curving his lips. “Not everything.”

The angel stared a long moment, then nodded. “Very well. If Xaphan will stay his hand, I will hear what she has to say. It should be entertaining at least. Where is she?”

Alexander looked across the waste. Max stood in front of Xaphan talking emphatically. He seemed to be listening to her. Then without warning, his wings swept forward and she was engulfed in billowing flames.

An animal sound ripped from Alexander’s throat and he started running. He forgot about Tutresiel and Horngate. Every part of him was focused on that column of flame burning like a beacon in the night. But even as he ran, he knew he was too late. Max could not survive Xaphan’s battle fire. Alexander’s only thought as he skimmed over the ruined mountainside was that he was going to kill the angel. Somehow he was going to kill the bastard. But there was not enough vengeance to fill the sudden ragged hole that opened up in his chest. This was a pain he did not know if he could survive.

21

MAX SPLIT FROM OZ’S TEAM AND HOPED THAT they could stop Tutresiel long enough to let her speak to Xaphan. Now she knew what Scooter had meant when he said she couldn’t beat them, but that she was the answer. Now if she could only convince them her plan was a good one.

The angels were circling each other. Xaphan’s wings were glorious. They rippled with orange and blue flames. Droplets of fire fell to the blackened stone of the mountain. Where they landed, the rock ignited. Suddenly a loud barrage aimed at Tutresiel began. Max had been waiting for it. Her team shifted and spread out, preparing to fire on Xaphan.

“No,” she said. “Leave him alone.”

Beside her Tyler raised his brows. He lowered the RPG launcher from his shoulder. “Seems a bit silly carrying all this firepower around if we aren’t gonna use it.”

“It’s a smoke screen. I didn’t need the argument,” she said.

“Which argument was that?”

“The one that said I’m insane and shouldn’t bother trying this. Oz, Niko, and Alexander would’ve shit heifers and there’s no time.”

At Alexander’s name, Tyler’s brows went up again, but he was silent on the subject, saying instead, “You don’t think any of the rest of us will argue with whatever it is you have in mind?”

“Nope,” Max said. “You’ll believe me when I say that this is Horngate’s last chance and if I don’t do it my way, then it won’t work at all. You’ll trust that I know what I’m doing, no matter how stupid it looks.”

“How stupid is it going to look?” he asked warily.

“Like I’m out to win this year’s Darwin award. Maybe next year’s while I’m at it.”

“And we just stand here and watch.”

“No. You go help the others distract Tutresiel.”

“Oz will chop my balls off. Niko and Akemi, too.”

“The good news is that being that you’re a Shadowblade, they’ll grow back. If you survive.”

A smile flickered and died. His face turned somber. He clearly didn’t like this. But he didn’t fight her either. “Good luck then. I’m buying the beer when this is over.”

Max smiled. “Moose Drool?”

“Whatever the lady desires,” he said with an ironic bow. But when he straightened, his expression was somber. “Try to be careful.”

“I always try,” she said with a little shrug.

“Not fucking well hard enough,” he said, scowling.

“Sometimes it pays to go balls to the wall. Like now, for instance.”

He glanced up at Xaphan, whose attention was fixed on the embattled Tutresiel. “All right. Good luck. See you when I see you.”

He gave a brash salute and jerked his head at the rest of their team, who followed him reluctantly. They had all heard the exchange and liked leaving Max no more than Tyler did. But Max was Shadowblade Prime, and in the end her word was their law.

She didn’t watch them go. Instead she looked up at Xaphan.

“Come down,” she called. “I’ve got something to say to you. That is, if you aren’t too busy destroying my covenstead.”

His head tilted toward her. His crimson eyes glowed and his skin was fiery with the reflected light of his wings. He dropped to the ground, his flaming black wings extended wide.

“Ah. I wondered where you were,” he said. “I thought I would see you sooner. I didn’t think you were one to lead from behind.”

“I’m afraid I was late to the party.” Max glanced over her shoulder. Tutresiel was on the ground. She looked back at Xaphan, raising her brows. “Friend of yours?”

His lip curled, in anger or pain, Max didn’t know. “Don’t you know?” he said softly. “We are not allowed friends. We exist only to serve.”

Max thought of Alexander and the way her Shadowblades had staked a claim on her after the Conclave. Friends she had, whether she wanted them or not. More than that’they were her family. Up until a few days ago, that would have made her want to slash the ties with a rusty machete, but today she found she was strangely pleased to be tethered to them.

“I might be able to help with that,” she said, knowing that Tutresiel could return to the battle at any moment. She had to make this quick. And convincing.

He frowned. “Help with what?”

“What if you didn’t have to serve Hekau anymore?”

He jerked back, then snarled, his crimson eyes narrowing to slits. His wings stretched high, like he would strike her down with them. Max didn’t let herself flinch.

“You’re a bitch,” he said, his voice guttural with hate and anger. “I will serve her until I die, and I am immortal.”

“Yeah, right. I know all that chapter and verse. But humor me; what if you didn’t have to? What if you could be bound here to Horngate instead?”

“I can’t, and why would I want to put my head in the noose of a weak witch when I serve one of the most powerful Guardians?”

“Giselle won’t live as long as Hekau. And you’re stronger than she is. You’ll gain your freedom eventually.”

A longing Xaphan couldn’t hide suffused his face. Then his expression twisted with hatred. “Enough games. Is this all you had to say to me?”

Max stepped forward until she was close enough to touch him. “It isn’t a game. I can do this for you. And Tutresiel, too. I can break your bindings. But only if you bind yourself to Horngate.”

“It is impossible,” he said through gritted teeth. Then a wild insanity flashed through his eyes. “I will teach you to lie,” he whispered.

Suddenly his wings snapped forward, curving around Max. Flames exploded around them both, billowing upward in a whirlwind of fire. It didn’t touch her, but her skin began instantly to blacken. Her hair melted. Her eyes cooked and in moments she was blind. Agony swept her. She could feel her blood boiling. Stabbing pains lanced through her chest. The air was gone. She could not breathe. All she could do was suffer. Escape was impossible.

She’d failed.

But he wasn’t done with her. Xaphan pulled her close against his alabaster chest, his mouth close against the hole in her head that marked where her ear had been. Max had thought her pain could get no worse. She was wrong. His touch chewed through her like a chain saw. She screamed, but was incapable of sound.

“Why? Why did you do this? I did not think you could be so cruel. I thought you understood.” The words were harsh with a vast anguish that spoke of too many horrors suffered, and too many dreadful deeds committed. Max understood that.

She needed to make words, but could not. The heat had charred her throat and lungs. She was dying. Her heart fluttered. She felt its uneven beat throb through every screaming nerve. It slowed, and gray erased the edges of her mind. She should have felt relief. Instead she fought to stay alive, to speak.

One word. If she could muster just one word and push it out through her ruined mouth.

One word that would make him understand that she had not lied.

Promise.

No one made promises in the world of the Uncanny and Divine. It was bad enough to acknowledge a debt. But promises went deeper than magic or memory or blood; they were bonds that could never be broken.

Max struggled to form the word. She forced her desiccated tongue to shape the syllables, pushing the word through the charcoal tissues of her throat and beyond her teeth. She could not feel her lips, if she even had them.

It was a mighty effort, but too little, and far too late. Her heart spasmed and she went rigid.

Then coolness seeped through her. Where it touched, the pain leached away. It swallowed her, shielding her from the heat. Slowly she became aware that she was pressed close against Xaphan, his arms wrapped around her, one hand stroking the back of her neck. His forehead was pressed to her shoulder.

As her vision returned, she could see that the conflagration still surrounded them. But she did not feel the heat. She licked her lips’she licked her lips. Somehow Xaphan was healing her.

He did not let go of her as he lifted his head. His expression was tortured. “Tell me,” he said.

Max babbled, wasting no time. “I let the Hag in Julian feed on my blood. She gave me a hailstone in return. I used it to make the Guardians forget Horngate ever existed. I made them forget everyone who belongs to Horngate. If it worked, and if you were bound to us, then Hekau would forget you. I promise it’s the truth.”

He gaped, his arms flexing so hard that Max felt her bones creak. She did not fight him. That was the last thing she needed to do right now.

“Do you have proof?” he rasped.

She shook her head. “No.” Only actually doing it would say for certain. “What have you got to lose?”

She knew the answer. Nothing. And everything. Hope was a treacherous thing. Letting it grow only to have it ripped up by the roots could do more damage to him than his fire had done to her.

“If it fails, I will still have to destroy Horngate.” His jaw was rigid and she could read the pain etching grooves around his eyes and mouth. His compulsion spells were grinding on him.

Max took a sudden breath as an idea struck her. Could it be so simple? But of course it was. She had told Giselle so. Words like promise and owe meant something to creatures like her and Xaphan. They meant more than any spell or compulsion. Those words were carved into their souls because they were offered freely, straight from the heart. No binding could tie anyone tighter.

She pushed back slightly. His arms loosened, but he did not let go. It was as if she were his anchor in a far greater maelstrom than the fire that whirled around them.

“I ask you for your word. Promise me that you will protect and serve Horngate in the best way you know how.”

It was like she’d slugged him. His face went slack and every muscle in his body knotted. “What is this?” he whispered. “What are you asking?”

“There is no binding stronger than your word given freely. Promise me to protect and serve Horngate, and that’s all I need.”

“All you need? What about your witch?”

Max smiled slowly. “This isn’t about her. She may be the heart of the covenstead, but the rest of us are its blood and its teeth. She’ll accept. I promise that, too.”

“Can you?”

The fact was that Giselle wouldn’t like it one bit. She’d want more guarantees. But she couldn’t have them, not today. Besides, if Xaphan broke his promise, he wouldn’t be part of Horngate anymore, and then Hekau would come for him. It was powerful motivation.

“All I need’all Giselle needs’is your word,” Max said firmly.

He started to speak, then coughed. His body tremored and his neck corded as he struggled against his compulsion spells. “You have it. I promise to protect and serve Horngate to the best of my ability,” he rasped as silvery blood flowed down his nose and out his mouth.

As soon as the words were out, a wave of power pulsed through the air. It swept away from them, shredding the wall of flames.

Max grinned, her body going weak with relief. Holy crap. It worked. “Welcome to the family.”

“Family?” he repeated dazedly.

There was no time to reply. They were surrounded by Sunspears and Shadowblades. A bristling Alexander was at her left shoulder, his gun aimed at Xaphan’s forehead. On the right was Niko, his gun a scant two inches from the angel’s eye.

“Let her go,” Niko ordered.

Xaphan smiled and let his arms fall. Max stepped back, feeling giddy. Her body throbbed with remembered pain but her heart was racing. She wanted to jump up and down.

“You do realize you can’t actually kill him, right?” she asked the two men. “And he can probably burn you to a crisp before you get off more than a couple of shots.” Gently she pushed both of their arms up. “Anyway, it’s all right. He’s one of us now.”

“One of us?” Niko echoed incredulously. He wasn’t the only one.

She turned and glanced around the circle, frowning at how few remained. Oz was on his feet, but his skin was mostly black, dappled here and there with patches of healthy-looking flesh. He slumped, leaning hard against Tyler.

“That’s right,” she said crisply, her jaw jutting. “He belongs to Horngate. Now I want all the Sunspears under cover. Take them around to the Mossy Log entrance.” She glanced at Xaphan. “Can you put out your fires?”