To Woo A Warrior (Southern Sanctuary) (23 page)

Xander snorted, his laughter
freezing in his throat as he noted Mot and
Sek
now
beaming big shit-eating grins his way.

“You’re lying!  She’s lying
right?”

Both men shrugged. 

“No, she has...”

“The right of it.”

Hadleigh expected Xander to protest,
curse, complain,
maybe
even come out fighting.  What
she didn’t expect was for the man’s eyes to roll back into his head, his body
collapsing back on the sarcophagus in a dead faint. 

She issued a disgusted sigh. 
“Just promise me you’ll kill him first.”

*                  
*                     
*

Vaughn paced the floor of the
warehouse, fists clenched, his jaw gritted, his mind racing, eyes drawn
constantly to the two miniscule blood drops, now dried, staining the cement.
 
Hadleigh’s blood.
  He wanted, needed, to
kill rend and destroy something.  The only thing stopping him from taking
his anger out on his team was that they were just as worried about Hadleigh’s
disappearance and furious at Xander’s betrayal as he was.

“If we had a witch they might be
able to tap any portal residue.”  Drum ground out.

As a group they turned to Nate, who
shook his head abruptly.  “I know a few women who dabble but no one with
any real power.”

“Problem my little Hershey
Kisses?”  Maat appeared in their midst, looking calm and serene in apricot
yoga pants and matching long sleeve top, her hair back in its usual plait, her
feet bare.

“Xander’s betrayed us and taken
Hadleigh.”  Marcus summed up their problems, not trusting Vaughn to speak
politely to their Goddess and benefactor.

“
Aahh
, so
he finally toppled to the dark.”  Maat murmured, her eyes the colour of a
threatening sandstorm.  “He’s been wavering on the brink for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you warn us about
him?  You must have known he was working for the other side?”  Rafe
demanded.

Maat shrugged, despite the tense air
a little teasing smile flirted at the edges of her lips. It made Vaughn so mad
he couldn’t bear to look at her. 

“He had potential to go either
way.  All humans and other do.  We cannot interfere until they have
made a final choice which path to follow.”

“Well Xander’s chosen.”  Flynn
barked.

“So help us punish him.”  Dash
completed.

Maat pursed her lips, trailing her
bare feet back and forth across the cement floor.  “Interesting … the
sands of Egypt
have
found their way here.”

Instantly Drum was crouching by her
feet, his nostrils flaring.  “He’s taken her to Egypt.”  He
confirmed, returning to his feet.

“Send us there.”  Vaughn
demanded.

“Careful of your tone
Peaches.”  Maat arched a delicate eyebrow for a moment in warning. 

“Maat!”   There was a
pleading desperate tone in Vaughn’s voice, he didn’t care about what Maat might
do to him if he crossed a line,
he
needed to save
Hadleigh. 

Maat moved over to Vaughn, placing a
warm soft hand along the side of his jaw, cradling his face.  The smell of
sun baked sands and ripe figs blanketed him in a calming wave.  “You’re
scared for your Hadleigh?”

“Terrified.”  He acknowledged,
unafraid to admit such a human weakness to his Goddess.

She slapped his face gently twice,
her eyes shifting to the bright shimmer of sand reflecting the high noon sun.
“Good for you my Darling One …  Good for you.”

“You’ll help me … us?”

Maat dropped her hand, tilting her
head slightly, sighing softly.  “You already have a way to get to
Hadleigh, you just need to stop, breathe and think.”

“How…”

But she was already gone. 
 

Vaughn issued a harsh muttered
curse.  “Sometimes it’s very hard not to hate her.”

Drum slapped a large consoling hand
on Vaughn’s shoulder.  “We hear you.  Now … do what our Goddess says,
take a couple of deep breaths and think.
”

Chapter Twenty-Three

It seems like the demi gods weren’t
in the mood to do Hadleigh any favours.  Moving in
eerie
mirrored
steps the two brothers lifted her, net and all, dragging her up
the stone steps, manhandling her roughly until she was lying alongside Xander
on top of the sarcophagus. 

“Jeez she’s no lightweight.”

“Hey.”  Hadleigh managed a
feeble protest.

Mot shrugged.  “Look at it this
way, more blood.”

Hadleigh decided to keep her mouth shut
following that statement.  Whilst the flannel brothers moved around the
burial room lighting more torches Hadleigh twisted and turned looking for any
way out of this mess. 

Her magic gone, her strength
drained, not a weapon in sight.  Unless Xander still had that amber
pocket knife
.  Reaching out she patted both his pants
pockets, nothing.  Xander started to rouse, groaning softly. 
Hadleigh had run out of patience with the man.  So what if he was
scheduled to die too, she still wanted to hurt him. 

Bringing her feet up she settled her
boots against his side and gave a hard shove.  Xander fell off the
sarcophagus with a startled cry.  There came the sound of a heavy thud,
followed by another cry, this time of pain.   Good, hopefully he’d
broken something.  Okay it was a small vindictive act, but Goddess it had
felt cathartic.

Sek
and Mot moved to stand at opposite ends of the sarcophagus. 
Neither appeared concerned or interested in Xander, who could be heard weeping
and panting now, attempting to crawl away.  The brothers each raised a
curved scimitar into the air, the blades glinting blackly in the firelight,
almost appearing to eat the light rather than reflect it.  Looking at them
was like looking into a pocket of the darkest night; it hurt her eyes and made
her stomach cramp at the very sight.  It was the exact opposite of the
feeling she’d had when she’d first seen the blade Vaughn had gifted to her that
had sneakily turned into an armband so she couldn’t return it. 

Wait a Goddess darn second, the
blade masquerading as an armband wasn’t part of her magic to call.  
Was the net affecting its abilities as well or since it was the creation of
Maat was it immune? 
Only one way to find out.
 

As
Sek
and
Mot commenced chanting harsh guttural words that sounded like flesh being
hauled over broken glass Hadleigh called to the blade with her mind.  No
response.  Darn it, she tried mentally screaming for it, still
nothing.  The brothers swung their scimitars in a complex series of
ceremonial circles and thrusts, ending with a flourish as each of them drew a
long cut down her arm, Mot her left,
Sek
her
right. 

Ram rod
straight once more, scimitars raised to the ceiling their chanting
resumed.  Great, death by a thousand cuts, what a long boring painful way
to die.  She attempted to wriggle off the sarcophagus but the net was
caught fast, keeping her in place.  Okay so maybe she could get loose via
the holes they’d now cut in the netting.  Damn she couldn’t even manage to
raise her arms.  The chanting ceased, another series of ceremonial sweeps
and thrusts then the swords descended once more, this time to cut along the
side of each thigh, shredding her trousers.  She hissed, not so much at
the pain of the cuts but at the kiss of the swords against her flesh, the metal
just felt plain wrong.  The chanting was back as she tried to wriggle the
opposite way, all the time mentally trying to coax the armband into
transforming and coming to her aid. 

She lay panting, blocking out the
sight if not the feel as the brothers bought their swords down for yet another
taste of her blood.  Nothing she tried worked, for her trouble her back
was now scraped raw, her top torn at the elbows, the blood from her numerous
cuts pooling underneath her into the grooves of the lid. 

“Still think I’m a witch?”  She
snapped at the brothers as they came in for their fourteenth or was it
fifteenth swipe? 

The chanting ceased, silence hung
heavily in the air except for Xander’s muffled terrified sobs.  Guess he
didn’t like looking at a tableau of his own imminent demise. 

“She’s right…”

“It should have started working by
now.”

They turned as one, looking towards
Xander’s curled up form all but hidden in the shadows.

“You said she...”

“…
was
a
witch.”

Moving as a co-ordinated unit the
brothers closed in on Xander, stalking him, their anger almost tangible. 

Hadleigh knew this would be her only
chance for freedom, she might not be a witch but they’d eventually kill her
anyway.  Both her flesh and the net were torn to shreds, if she could just
get free whilst their backs were turned she might stand half a chance if she
could get to her feet and call her weapons.  Desperately she wriggled,
ignoring the harsh scrape of stone and blood soaking into her clothes. 

“I’m definitely giving you back
now.”  She hissed under her breath at the armband.  Then she felt it
in her head, a tingle,
an
awareness.  The armband
was awake.  “Oh you gorgeous thing.”  She coaxed in whispered
tones.  Through a tear in her shirt she saw the armband begin to
glow.   The light was so beautiful in this wretched place she
couldn’t look away.  “I need you.”  She whispered to it
urgently.  “I need you to be what you really are.”   

The armband disappeared turning into
a golden slice of light travelling down her arm to coalesce into its original
dagger form in her hand.  She wasted no time in cutting herself free but
even with Vaughn’s dagger the net was difficult to dislodge, sticking to both
her skin and into her wounds.  She managed to cut enough away to tumble off
the lid to her feet, standing slowly as her head swam slightly.  Thanks to
the sticky remanets of the net she still couldn’t call any of her weapons but
that hollow numb feeling had dissipated to be replaced only by the sick nausea
of blood loss. 

Time wasn’t on her side.  The
brothers would only be distracted for so long with stalking Xander and from the
looks of things her natural healing abilities were being negated by the dark
magic remanets of the net. 
Blood loss would weaken her
soon to the point of being unable to fight so she didn’t have the luxury of
taking a moment to catch her breath
,
she had to act
now
.  Using the sarcophagus for support she rounded the stone
coffin, moving down the stairs to slide up behind Mot as quietly as
possible.  She was taller than him by a good couple of inches but he was
on the heavy side.  She plastered herself against his back, grabbing his
dark hair to pull his head back, bringing the dagger to rest against the pulse
of his jugular. 

“Change in plans.”

Mot froze whilst
Sek
swivelled in the sand to face them, his ruddy face blank but watchful, those
dark eyes of his reflecting the torch light as if they were full of hellfire.

“Drop the swords.”  Hadleigh
demanded. 

Mot’s made a dull thump as it landed
in the sand at their feet but
Sek
facing them without
the benefit of a an encouraging dagger to the throat refused.  Xander for
his part had decided to take the opportunity of distraction to drag himself
further away in to the dark shadows. 

Hadleigh yanked on Mot’s hair,
tilting his head back even further, laying the flat of her blade against his
skin.  Mot cried out, there was a sizzling sound and the smell of burnt
flesh filled the air.  It seems the demi gods of chaos really didn’t like
the blade created by Maat. 

“Drop the sword.”  Hadleigh
pressed the blade harder against Mot’s
flesh,
it
sounded like she was grilling hamburgers, ick.

Sek
hesitated for another long moment before dropping his sword. 
Except he didn’t look defeated or even slightly cowed, as a big
grin split his features.
  Reaching to the back of his jeans he
pulled out a gun pointing the business end her way. 

Darn, no fair.  Demi gods
weren’t supposed to have access to modern weaponry.  Though if they were
capable of handing out speeding tickets then it should have been obvious to her
that they’d have badges and guns to back them up.  Probably nothing a
chaos accolade loved more than a gun, the things were the very definition of
the word chaos.  Of course if
Sek
had a gun,
then Mot would also.  Yanking Mot onto his tippy toes to provide her with
a little more guarantee that
Sek
wouldn’t attempt any
pot shots at her head she finally understood what was grinding into her
hip bone
. 
Mot’s gun.
 

In a perfect world she’d pull that
sucker out and shoot
Sek
in the head.  The only
problem was she didn’t have the first clue of how to aim a gun.  She’d
seen enough movies to understand about pulling the trigger, but aiming? 
The only thing she could do with Mot’s gun was yank it out of the back of his
jeans and throw it across the room, her actions lightning fast, barely allowing
Mot’s head to dip for only a split second before she grabbed his hair once
more. 

“This here is what we’d call a
stand-off.” 
Sek
drawled lazily. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.”  Hadleigh
crouched at the knees slightly so there was less of her head visible to
Sek
.  “It’s not like you’ve got a clear shot or
anything.”

Sek
chuffed a laugh and it didn’t sound pretty, half way between a
grunt
and gurgle.  “I can always just shoot straight
through my brother.”

“It wouldn’t be the first
time.”  Mot ground out tightly.

“See weapons made by man, things
like bullets they don’t do us much harm.” 
Sek
elaborated.

“It would still hurt.”  Mot
reminded his brother perhaps in warning.

“Yeah ... But you’d get over it.”

Goddess what had she ever done to be
entombed with these two hillbilly demi gods masquerading as lawmen? 
Easing up slightly on the press of the blade, the smell of burning flesh
combined with her blood loss making her feel like she wanted to throw up.

“Here’s what’s going to
happen.”  Hadleigh gave another sharp tug on Mot’s hair.  “We’ve
agreed I’m not a witch, that there’ll be no raising Daddy today.  Now I
know you’re not happy with Xander but leaving him here entombed is just as good
as killing him, maybe more poetic even.  So you two just toddle off and
find yourselves another long lost relative to dupe.”

“You’re going to let me go?” 
Mot asked his back arched, straining to remain on his toes so she wouldn’t rip
out half his hair. 

“Well I’ll probably be coming after
you … but not today.  So do we have an agreement?” 

She chanced moving slightly to get a
better view of
Sek’s
face to gauge his
thoughts.  But the man’s gaze wasn’t on her and Mot, he was staring at
their feet.  Hoping this wasn’t some sort of distraction she glanced down
and grimaced at the sight of blood splattering and pooling beneath her boots.
Goddess darn this evil net, it would surely be the death of her. 

“We’ll go.” 
Sek
stated.

“Swear by Apep you won’t return to
this tomb until after sunset tomorrow night.”

Sek
froze, a flash of something behind his ruddy granite expression,
anger?  “I swear by Apep that I will not return to this tomb until sunset
hence.”

Hadleigh yanked hard on Mot, who
ground out the same assurance.

“Then go.”  Hadleigh commanded.

Sek
disappeared instantly as did his black sword, Mot remained.

“Why haven’t you gone?”

“Maat’s dagger, I can’t leave with
it touching me.”

Hadleigh had barely lifted the dagger
an inch when Mot disappeared, his sudden absence causing her to stumble
sideways, catching a boot on the bottom step.  With a lurching stagger she
managed to make it up the remaining steps and climb onto the sarcophagus with a
heartfelt groan of relief.  Anywhere was better than collapsing on the
sand in her sorry and bloodied state.

She didn’t fall into unconsciousness
exactly but certainly the world faded a little because when the gun was shoved
against her temple some time later clarity returned with a thud.  Goddess
darn it, how come every
smuck
on the planet seemed to
know how to handle a gun except for her?  “Xander.”  She
acknowledged, not bothering to move.

“Get me out of here.”  He
demanded.

Urrgh
, she really didn’t want to have to deal with this bozo right now, she
felt as weak as a newborn kitten and the appeal of just curling up and having a
nap was all consuming.  The only person stopping her was the joker
continuing to poke her in the head with the barrel of Mot’s gun she had so carelessly
thrown away.