Death's Redemption (The Eternal Lovers Series) (24 page)

Breathing heavily through her nose and mouth, she tried to beat back the beast demanding the kill.

Dragging her head back and forth against the rough brick surface, she prayed for clarity. Prayed for a miracle. Her resolve was weakening by the second.

Frenzy was right: she should have fed. Should have taken from him, just once more.

She jerked to the right as the soft scratching sound of shuffling footsteps pounded through the window to the right of her. Sliding away from the edge of the building, she crawled over to the window, peeking inside.

There was a man inside.

And he was staring right back at her, terror wide in the stark whites of his eyes.

Everything went blank. She stopped thinking, stopped empathizing, because he was close and he smelled like food. A switch had flipped inside her soul, shutting off who she was, who she’d been trying to be. She wasn’t Mila, she was a monster, a vampire shifter, and she was ravenous.

Smiling, she tapped on the window. “Hello, mortal,” she breathed, and he turned on his heel to run just as she punched her fist through the glass.

With a loud cry, she chased after him, tackling him to the ground just a few feet away.

Wrapping him up, she rolled him over and then proceeded to coo in his ear, “Hush, hush, it will only hurt but a minute. Hush now…”

Then she bit.

F
rantic with worry, it’d taken Frenzy a minute to catch his bearings. To realize he’d been dumped at the far end of Fisherman’s Wharf, the opposite direction from Club X. The moment he’d seen the chimera (the spelled, wavering illusion) netted across the exit from their time jump, he’d known it was The Morrigan.

He’d been an idiot to believe she wouldn’t have covered her bases, wouldn’t have set up traps in case they attempted to contact the Ancient One. Mila had been ripped from his arms, but not before he’d used his glamour to keep her scent hidden from the
others
.

He would have cloaked her in invisibility as well, if he’d only had enough time. But it had been all he could manage before she was gone and he was roaring into the night. When he’d obscured her scent, he’d also left a marker on her, one he could track. It would be so much easier to get to her by time jumping, but likely anywhere he tried to jump in San Francisco would result in the same scenario: him being dumped out at precisely the opposite spot of where he wanted to be, so he had to track her trail the old-fashioned way.

There was the equivalent of a beacon on her, one only he could hear. The fainter it got, the farther he was, the louder, the closer.

The noise was earsplitting now.

Gaze wandering all along the rows of houses, Frenzy ran. But some instinct, some knowledge of her, made him stop. Her sweet scent of frost and rich earth tickled his nose.

She was in one of the buildings.

He was just getting ready to ascend a set of stairs to his left when a scream, so steeped in terror, set his teeth on edge.

It was a male voice. Turning, he practically flew to the door and yanked it open.

That’s when he saw the pale-haired twins Tronos and Nailia. They were a flight above him and headed directly for the source of the screams.

He knew immediately they were after Mila. A frenzy like he hadn’t felt in centuries overcame him. A blinding, black rage that took hold of all his senses. There was only one thought consuming him, and that was getting to her first.

Bounding up the steps, he leaped like a jungle cat.

Nailia glanced down first. She hissed. “Tronos, death is upon us! You must stop him. I will get to her.”

She might as well have called for his head, because Frenzy’s focus shifted entirely to her. It didn’t faze him when Tronos landed on his back, when his hands wrapped around his neck, or when the fae squeezed so hard that it made spots appear.

Because that was secondary to stopping Nailia. To saving his woman.

Heart thundering like the galloping hooves of a stallion in his chest, he shoved his bony hand into the side of Tronos’s neck.

The scent of crisp autumn apples flooded the stairwell as the fae’s blood spilled. But a fae was much harder to kill than that; merely cutting an artery wouldn’t do it. Suddenly a dagger appeared in his line of vision, and then a pricking in his side as Tronos stabbed him.

Adrenaline buzzed through his body like an angry hornet’s nest as he forced his feet to take two steps at a time, breathing heavily because of the burden of carrying another body.

Nailia was so close to the door.

To his woman, his world.

“Mila!” he roared, when for a split second Nailia turned, big blue eyes darting quickly at him before turning the knob.

Fury gripped him. Swatting at the hand that continued to stab into his side, Frenzy grabbed Tronos by the neck, sliding him off his back and in front of him.

“If anything happens to my woman,” he growled, “I swear by all that is holy that I will haunt you even after death.”

“The Morrigan made us, Frenzy. You must believe me—”

But Frenzy did not give him time to finish his statement: with a flick of his wrist he’d twisted the fae’s head off, and to ensure that there would be no reviving it, he pressed the soundless lips to his own, breathing death’s dark kiss into Tronos’s brain.

Dropping the head like a sack of stone down the stairwell, he ran for Mila, gasping when he reached the door. Inside there was chaos and madness. Blood was everywhere. Mila stood before a male’s body, crouching on the balls of her heels and her hand as she walked spiderlike around Nailia, who was desperately trying to grab ahold of her wrist and yank her through the portal between the here and there.

Fear beat desperate wings in his chest. All he knew was that if Nailia grabbed Mila, he’d never see her again. The queen had overstepped her bounds this time. She’d lied to Mila, lied to him—any fledging love he’d once held for her died an insidious death.

“Frenzy,” Mila cried, eyes lighting up with a fever-pitched excitement, enough to help ease some of the darkness creeping through his soul.

To help him remember that he wasn’t the beast of legend anymore, that his woman was alive and well and waiting for him, it brought him back from the brink of no return.

That’s when Nailia turned, eyes gone wide. “What did you do to Tronos? You’ve overstepped yourself, Frenzy. The queen will have your head, she will—”

With a snarl, he had his hands around her neck. “Mila, you might wish to look away,” he thundered, barely able to restrain his need for violence. To hurt every last thing that’d ever tried to hurt her.

His blond priestess shook her head. Taking that to mean that she wouldn’t try to hinder him, he torqued on Nailia’s head and, just like her brother’s, ripped it from her shoulders.

Faerie did not bleed out, because unlike most other creatures, the only true way to end a fae was to either have it be done by the queen’s hand, or feel death’s kiss.

It was why even amongst the fae a grim reaper was so hated.

Bringing cold lips to his own, he shoved the kiss inside her brain, dropping her like stone to the floor.

A second later Mila was in his arms, trembling and acting like she wanted to crawl into him.

“Shh, shh.” He rubbed her hair, peppering her forehead with kisses. “I’m here. You’re fine. We’re fine. We’re fine.”

The last was definitely said more for his benefit than hers, as right now he felt anything but fine. He’d almost lost her. Adrianna’s death had nearly ruined him; Mila’s would kill him.

He’d learned one unsettling truth today: he loved her. Somehow, someway, she’d slithered her way into his cold, dark heart and he could never be without her. Adrianna had loved him in her way, as much as a woman of her day set on making a quality love match could. Mila accepted him for the being that he was.

Adrianna had never known his true identity. The reason why the lord of the manor was always away on business trips—not because he was out in gaming hells, but because at night he’d be cleaning up the city. Carrying souls into the afterlife.

At the time he thought he could deal with an arrangement like that. Could be happy to just spend his days with a woman in his arms, but now he knew better. What he’d felt for Adrianna had been absolutely nothing compared to what he would do to keep Mila by his side.

“I’m sorry…I…I…” she stuttered.

Realizing she was going into shock over the violence she’d perpetrated, Frenzy tipped her jaw up to his. They had to get out of here. There was the very definite possibility that the queen could be making an unplanned visit any second now. Especially since her latest plan had failed.

But he’d almost lost her; he needed her touch as much as she needed his.

Taking her lips in a swift but almost violent kiss, he tasted and loved on her. Just the touch of her set his body on fire, made his blood roar in his ears.

“It’s okay,” he whispered again, pressing a much gentler kiss on her forehead. “We’re together and I’ll tell you everything, but we have to get out of here. We don’t have much time to get to Lise’s.”

She nodded, and as much as he didn’t want her to, he helped her disentangle herself from him, setting her on her feet.

Amber eyes studied him. “You’re hurt?” she said in a neutral tone, as if she were still in shock.

Worried more for her than himself, he shook his head. “I’m fine, Mila. I’ll heal.”

Gingerly she touched the wound in his side. He swallowed the hiss he wanted to expel and smiled instead. He was healing; another few minutes and the wound would be closed. Only a beating by his queen could leave lasting damage—reapers could heal from almost anything.

Brushing a stray hair off her shoulder, he took one last look at the nearly expired body of the mortal on the ground, almost certain she had caused that to happen because of her lack of feeding earlier. If he stayed too much longer he’d be forced to harvest the soul, thus taking him away from her once again.

She’d hidden her face behind her hair; her shame was obvious. For a woman so proud and so unyielding in her beliefs, to have been overcome by her baser desires could kill the light inside of her.

He couldn’t let that happen.

“Lise!” he cried, tipping his head skyward. “We need you.”

No sooner had he called then he smelled the unmistakable scent of more fae. They were just outside the door and there were too many of them for him to brave on his own. He couldn’t swipe a portal open. He didn’t trust that method of travel at the moment. If he tried to jump out the window with her, there was likely an ambush already waiting for them.

The queen was never stupid.

Just as the first head peeked around the corner, time stilled. A hint of frost crawled through the window and then there was a brilliant flash of white.

“My word.” Lise’s voice had Frenzy taking a violent breath, realizing just how close he and Mila had come to being prey.

Mila had her head tucked into Frenzy’s neck, and she was still trembling violently. It was the quietest he’d ever known her to be, and it had him worried.

“Darling.” He rubbed her back gently. “This is Lise.”

She looked up then, blinking her eyes slowly at the woman standing before them. This time Lise had shown up not as the crone, but as the mother. Her skin was firmer, her hair not white but a rich chestnut with a loose sprinkling of silver throughout. Around her head she wore a wreath of laurels.

“My dear,” she said in a clear, dulcet voice that had him shivering. “What have they done to you?”

Lise took Mila’s hand, patting it gently. It was hard for him to see Mila so shaken up.

“I…I killed him,” she said, ending her words with a whimper that tore his heart in two.

Lise glanced down at the body of the man. He was youngish, maybe early thirties in human years, dressed only in boxers. It was obvious by the light of Lise’s warmth that Mila had savaged the poor man.

“Well, you haven’t killed him,” Lise said, “yet.” She smiled to lessen the blow.

Grabbing ahold of Mila’s chin, Lise turned her face from side to side. And then, lifting up first one arm, she walked in front of Mila—back and forth—before lifting up the other. “You are a miracle, girl.”

Frenzy smiled, feeling oddly as if the compliment was for his benefit as well.

“How can you say that?” Mila’s voice lowered in pitch and Frenzy knew she was close to breaking.

Hugging her, he kissed her forehead.

Lise looked between the two of them, a knowing glint in her milky white eyes. “It is as I expected.”

He tipped his head in acknowledgement, her lips merely twitching in response.

“Little one”—she smoothed a hand over Mila’s brow—“I will protect you as I could not the night the vampires found you. All of this had to be set into motion, can’t you see? A seer, you must understand, right?”

Still clinging to Frenzy’s shirt, Mila nodded. “Why did The Morrigan betray us?”

“She didn’t, dear. As she views it, the betrayal was on your end. Had you stayed at the cabin, she would have sent the shadow as she’d mentioned. But one thing I can say for the queen of war is that she’s always prepared for any eventuality. If you fled, she’d catch you. You see, the queen always gets what she wants.”

“But you said—” Frenzy cut in.

“Ah”—Lise raised a quieting hand—“I said not to go to the queen until it was time.”

It hadn’t made sense to him then; he remembered thinking how odd the wording was, but with everything that’d happened since, he hadn’t given her words much thought. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, death, that the queen had to see she was out of options. For so long the queen has expected to control everyone and anything.” Her smile was smug. “I alone am her Achilles heel, and she hates me for it. What she did tonight, it wasn’t for you. It was for me.”

His brows dropped.

“It was to see whether I’d fight for you.” She jerked her chin toward Mila, who was starting to finally relax in his arms. “She was drawing me out. I’m out.” She shrugged with her arms outstretched.

He grinned. “So now the field is level.”

She touched the tip of her nose with a “now you’ve got it” expression.

“What do we do now?” Mila asked.

“You’re not going to like what I say.” Lise cocked her head, tightening her lips.

The truth was so obvious it was almost as if it’d been written on the wall in front of him. “Do as she initially intended.”

Nodding slowly, Lise sighed. “Aye. The queen would never admit it, but she does actually need your help. When she created the shadow it was with the express purpose of using it as a scent hound, if you will. To help the queen draw out a seer. As you know, you’re all quite valuable.”

“Anyone that controls the future, controls the war,” he mumbled.

“Exactly.”

Mila shook her head. “She’s whittled us down to near extinction. I’m the last of my line.”

“Yes.” Lise toed the shoulder of the fallen man, frowning slightly at the body. “As I said, her intention was merely to track you down. To compel you to fight for the light court. But the shadow evolved over time…”

“And desired that which she was created to find,” Frenzy finished for her. “It is a case of absolute power corrupting absolutely; the shadow grew too strong and wanted more than she should.”

“Indeed.” Lise twirled, smiling benevolently at them. “Ergo, the queen now finds herself in an unenviable position.”

Mila snorted. “So she does need me? Then why did she send her goon squad to kill me?”