Calm Before the Storm (20 page)

What would Tyr do to her?

Tyr felt sick. His stomach churned as he
watched Abrasax torturing a man. Granted the man was a criminal and murderer,
one of Abrasax’s own men who had thought to cheat him, but it was the psychotic
enjoyment evident in Abrasax’s eyes that turned Tyr’s stomach. Every time the
whip tore another gaping slash across the guy’s back Abrasax’s eyes lit up with
sadistic glee. He was a sadist of epic proportions. The crim wasn’t going to
last much longer and Abrasax was so turned on by it that Tyr fully expected him
to spontaneously orgasm where he stood.

They were in the lower levels of Abrasax
tower. Abrasax had built an extensive suite of torture chambers down here, each
room with its own special brand of horror in store for his unwitting victims.
Tyr knew there were corridors below where prisoners were held and he suspected
Melanie and Delora were somewhere in the vicinity. So far his plans were on
course. He just needed some time to track them down.

He had regretted, no, hated leaving Irina
the way he had, but if he had stayed, he knew he would not have been able to go
at all. Ever. And that would have meant losing the chance to find Melanie and
Delora. He had seen the pendant by her bed and knew he had to take it and go.
Abrasax had charged him with its retrieval, and to help the girls he had to go
through with his mission even though it killed him to hurt Irina.

The sight of her lying lost in sleep,
chocolate curls a decadent halo around her elfin face, dark lashes fluttering
against creamy smooth cheeks had sent his heart hammering, battering his rib
cage with an SOS message, insisting that he was in danger of sinking. She’d
told him she loved him!

He hadn’t said it back because she had
rendered him speechless. Vowing he would make it up to her, he hoped she would
realize why he had gone and that she understood the message he had left for her
with Alcina. He was grateful to Alcina for her help in accessing the portal. As
a friend to Irina’s mother, she had been sympathetic and understood that he
wanted to keep Irina safe but also that he had to help the daughters of his own
friend. He couldn’t let Sal down. Tyr focused his gaze away from the victim
trying to block out his screams.

Next to Abrasax, Rusalka lay stretched
lazily across an empty torture rack. She was licking her lips and gazing
constantly in Tyr’s direction. She began running her hands over her breasts in
a blatant attempt to arouse his interest. Well he was interested, but not for
the reasons she wanted. Since his return, Tyr had spent time trying to glean as
much information as he could from Abrasax’s men, not just for himself but also
for the Eunomi. He had heard from Dagon and Moloch that Rusalka enjoyed
“playing” and currently had two sweet girls in her “playroom”. He needed to
find out if they were Sal’s girls.

“Tyr!” He realized Abrasax was calling him.
“Have some fun,” he was saying. “Finish him off for me.”

“Oh yes!” gasped Rusalka. “Let war break
out! No holds barred, baby.”

Tyr’s eyes roamed around the room. There
was no getting out of this. His eyes alighted on Moloch and Dagon who seemed to
be permanently glued to Abrasax as bodyguards. Rodach had also made a return to
the tower and was keeping a suspicious eye on him. He took hold of the whip,
turning to the quivering mass of flesh, his screams still piercing the air
around them.
The guy deserves it,
he told himself and to rescue the
girls and keep Irina safe, he would do anything. He raised his hand. The whip
thwacked with a loud crack glancing off flesh and bone. The screams flew
higher, taking a piece of his soul with them, but he was War and sometimes to
win a war, you have to concede a battle.

* * * * *

Cassi’s spidey senses were tingling as she
made her way stealthily down an empty corridor on one of the lower floors of
Abrasax Tower. She knew that sensation of old. The Eunomi and Discordants were
forever crossing paths and Cassi had skirmished with many in her two thousand
five hundred years of existence.
That
warrior was here. Every cell in
her body vibrated with the buzz of his unique energy. She called him the dark
warrior.

He was huge, at least six foot eight, and
wore distinctive black armor that bore the sigil of a wheel with eight spokes.
Cassi had encountered him many times, fought in battles where he was present,
but never seen his face. The black metal mask he wore kept his darkness hidden.
Lord of Thunder was the name given to him by his Discordant subordinates
although they rarely uttered his name with anything other than fear in their
tone. His reputation was such among the Eunomi that any mention of him was a
whisper. They called him the dark one. Rampage.

A shiver of ice-cold fear ran the length of
her spine and Cassi began to think she had made a grave error in judgement. She
wasn’t supposed to be here. Merak and Borealis had scheduled the attack for
tomorrow morning at first light and had been tweaking their plans when she
left. Irina had been gone for over twenty-four hours and had not made contact
with Luc as they had expected. Cassi was too worried to sit back and wait.
Someone had to go in. And that someone was her. She had decided to form the
advance party by herself and do a bit of recon.

The wiccani had scried for Irina’s presence
at Abrasax Tower, trying to detect her aura and the result had been
inconclusive. The Discordants had effective shielding. Cassi believed that both
Tyr and Irina were here somewhere and if she couldn’t find them, she was
confident she could at least gauge their whereabouts with a little persuasion.
She just had to find someone she could interrogate. Some Discordants were easy
prey.

The dark warrior however was not. Up ahead,
Cassi could see his large, dark shape. Motionless he stood. Static. A statue
formed from the inky chemosh shell of his armor, a black absorption of light.
She felt the familiar tingle of expectation. Her powers rushed wildly, surging
through her veins. Perhaps finally she would be able to vanquish the darkness,
not only his, but also the heavy weight of grief and guilt that had crushed her
soul since the last Realignment eight hundred years ago. If only she could
dissipate the nightmares of their previous encounters. He was alone. She had
the advantage.

Cassi mentally drew on all her Eunomi
energy, her innate wiccani powers centering the flow at her core. She continued
down the corridor toward him, swords in hand, her favored chemosh blades the
perfect foil for his armor. She had only managed a few steps when the warrior shifted.
Turned. His dark mask almost sucking her forward into a pitch-black hole
seething with nightmarish intent. He stood facing her, hands by his side but
made no move toward her, his own sword slung over his back. Pinpricks of
anticipation. The energy surge sizzling through her blood.

The warrior lifted his arm palm flat facing
upward toward the ceiling. He raised his fingers twice in a “come here”
gesture. Commanding. No. Demanding!

Cassi was suspended in that moment. A crash
of images rapid fired into her brain. Past clashes and bitter recriminations.
The urge to attack was powerful but something held her back. Some elusive
notion hovered in her subconscious. This warrior was dangerous. Oh, she knew.
She knew just how dangerous. He was responsible for one of her biggest regrets
at the last Realignment. If not for him! Anger boiled to the surface and rage
overtook.

Launching herself at the warrior, Cassi
rotated her blades in a spinning frenzy to intimidate and confuse. Yes he was
huge and formidable. She knew. But she didn’t care. It was time for him to pay.

A clash of swords reverberated as the
warrior blocked. Cassi felt the strength behind his swing as she arced her own
weapons, one slashing up and the other down. Again the warrior blocked. Her
body twisted around swinging her swords to follow with the full force of
momentum. Their blades sang together, a harmony. They continued the fight in
perfect sync, each anticipating the other, blocking and slicing. Cassi’s blood
heated. She felt as if she were dancing with the warrior, a continuous waltz to
the rhythm of each connecting blow. A deep growl reached her ears over the
ringing pitch of clashing blades. “We…have…met…before.”

The warrior’s words were a staccato stroke
across her skin. The velvety tones a dark caress. Gritting her teeth she
managed to spit out a reply. “This time you lose!”

He blocked again. “I never lose.”

“There’s a first time for everything!”

“And a last.” His words sounded almost
regretful. The loud ring of steel sang out as Cassi pressed forward again. The
warrior paused for a fraction. “No!” he suddenly cried. “Don’t kill!”

Cassi faltered bewildered. A weight to her
head. Stars before her eyes. Blackness. Spots. She blinked. The warrior’s dark
mask swam in front of her face, a blur as it merged into a pair of piercing
brown-hazel eyes flecked with green, visible through the rectangular slit.
“Leave her!” A threatening growl. Strong arms grasped her waist as her legs
gave way. “Leave her!”

“Yes, oh Lord of Thunder,” said a whiny
voice from behind. Another growl. “She is mine!” The iron clamps encircling her
then lifted her whole body off the ground. She tried to struggle, twisting to
escape the dark warrior’s embrace. The darkness blinked again. “Why do you
continue to fight?”

The dark shape dissolved into mist as Cassi
dizzied in and out of consciousness. The face of an angel, hazel eyes, green
flecks filling her clouded vision. “Siti.” The final words she heard, “Siti,
sleep.”

The soft press of flesh against her lips
before darkness overtook.

“Cassi, Cassi, wake up!” A hand shaking her
arm. An insistent familiar voice. “Cassi. Come on.” The fog cleared as vision
blinked to awareness. Cassi’s head throbbed. “Why am I not dead?” she moaned
sitting up groggily. Irina’s face more clearly visible, slid into view through
the gray shadows. “I’m so glad you’re not dead.” Irina’s voice heavy with
regret.

“And I’m so pissed you disappeared off on
your own!” shouted Cassi, past events resurfacing through the haze of her
brain. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Irina had the decency to look contrite.
“Well, clearly I wasn’t really thinking.” She grimaced shrugging her shoulders.
“How did you get here?”

Cassi sat up slowly, rubbing her head and
studied the confines of the space. Her eyes alighted on the two other forms
curled up on the far side of the room. “Where is here, and who are they?” she
asked.

“I guess this is Abrasax Tower. Them, I
don’t know. They’re not lucid.”

One small form was huddled, hands across
knees that were pulled up to her chin, her body rocking in continuous motion.
The other shape remained a curled fetal ball against the wall.

“Tell me what happened to you,” said Cassi,
returning her thoughts to Irina. “Why did you leave? You were safe on Lyra.”

“I had to try and find Tyr,” she explained
dejectedly. “I wanted to find him before Merak and the warriors kill him. I
can’t let myself believe he is a lost cause, Cassi. There has to be an
explanation for what he did.”

Cassi hugged her close. “Irina, I’m so
sorry. I’d like to believe better of him, but the evidence…”

“I know but—” Irina broke off as struggling
to find the words to explain. “But I know him better than you. I…we…” She
faltered.

“Oh my god!” Cassi’s blue eyes widened in
astonishment. “I didn’t realize it had gone that far with you both. When?”

“The night he left. That’s how he took the
pendant. He was in my room and it was on the nightstand next to the bed.”

“The bastard!” Cassi could feel Irina’s
sorrow. She felt helpless. Another reminder of eight hundred years ago. This Realignment
was shaping up to be nothing more than a complete re-enactment of the last one.
She wouldn’t let Irina go under. Not this time. Her thoughts turned to
practicalities. “Irina, who helped you through the starportal?”

“Cassi. I was betrayed. It was Alcina who
helped me. She said she was helping me because of my mother, but the
Discordants knew where I was. They were waiting for me. I don’t understand it
but she was the only one who knew where I was going, unless someone else
overheard us.”

Cassi was dumbstruck. “Alcina! I’ve known
her for years. Why would she?”

“I don’t know.”

“She did say she’d accidentally given Tyr
some pointers about portal travel, maybe it wasn’t quite so accidental.” It was
unbelievable. Alcina was a trusted member of the Eunomi. She had been a close
friend of Irina’s mother!

They both fell silent. Irina broke the
silence. “What about you? Why are you here?” Cassi shrugged and pulled Irina
into a hug.

“I came after you, stupid. I couldn’t wait
for the others. Unfortunately I let my guard down against the dark warrior and
they caught me. They cheated!” Cassi was indignant. “Smashed me over the head
from behind!” She frowned as she spoke, struggling to recall the events that
had led to her capture. “It was weird though,” she whispered. “I could have
sworn he was annoyed they did that.”

“Who’s the dark…” began Irina as a loud
rattling noise sounded from the door and it swung open, revealing two large
guards in black. They entered the room and grabbed Irina and Cassi roughly by
the arms.

The torture session was still echoing in
his brain and Tyr could still hear the screams of the victim. Abrasax had
grabbed the whip and struck the final blows, too excited by the stench and
terror emanating from the bloodied wretch as he twisted and twitched in the
agony of his final death throes. After wiping the blood from his hands, Abrasax
had invited Tyr into his office for some liquid refreshment and a
heart-to-heart. Tyr had felt grateful for the strong bourbon but only downed
one. He needed to keep focus.

“That was rather invigorating, don’t you
think?” Abrasax studied Tyr, a calculating gleam in his eye.

“If you say so,” Tyr responded with a shrug
of his shoulders.

“I expect you prefer the adrenaline rush of
hand-to-hand combat. But there is nothing like the rush that comes from knowing
you have total control. Power over life and death.”

“I guess power does have advantages,”
replied Tyr. “Is that what the Discordants can offer me?”

“With both essences harnessed through the
pendants, the Discordants will be able to dictate the outcomes of war. You as
War will be able to dictate who the victors are and they will bow to your
commands.”

“So I would have total control?”

“You will need to swear an oath to
Choronzon, Lord of the Abyss. He holds ultimate power within Discordant
circles. However, your loyalty, once given, will be rewarded. I am sure
Choronzon will offer you a prime territory, here on Earth if you wish—or
perhaps on Ophiuchus if you prefer.”

Tyr nodded as if considering the offer. He
needed to hold off on making any oaths, as he was quite certain that if broken,
an oath to someone who styled himself Lord of the Abyss would probably result
in various parts of his anatomy in pieces and scattered into the actual abyss.

At that moment the phone on Abrasax’s desk
rang and he took the call. Whatever it was made him smile and he rushed off to
deal with his urgent business just as Rusalka returned and Tyr found himself on
the couch being sized up by a very determined predatory female. He needed to
turn that to his advantage.

Rusalka slunk toward him, her moist skin
glistening with dew.
What is she?
“Well, luscious War,” she drawled,
“it’s nice finally be alone with you. I have to say, I love your wrist action.
The way you flick your whip had me all a-tingle.” She wiggled her hips
suggestively. “You were so dangerous. I thought you and I might play.”

Tyr nodded at the compliment. “I heard you
like to play,” he said. “Are you up for a game?” Her eyes brightened and she licked
her lips.

“Always,” she replied with a sultry smile.
“What kind of a game?”

“Truth or dare.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know this one.
Is it an Earthani game?”

“Yes. I’ll teach you.”

“I’ll bet you’re a good teacher.” Hands
caressed his chest. Her touch did nothing but make the fine hairs on his neck
stand to attention. “You start. Which do you choose: truth or dare?”

“Mmmm.” She considered for a moment.
“Dare.”

“I heard you have your own personal
playroom or is it a torture room? I dare you to show me.” She raised her
eyebrows and slid closer.

“I didn’t realize you were so into playing
in that way. It doesn’t all have to be torture though; sometimes it can be
quite…pleasurable.” Rusalka slid closer again so that one arm was draped across
his knee, the other hand rubbing cold, clammy fingers on his neck.

“Well then, I’ve dared you to show me.” Tyr
focused on her expression intent on persuading her to take him to her playroom.
Rusalka considered for a moment.

“Perhaps I will,” she purred silkily, “after
we have finished playing this game.”

“You’re not playing properly unless you
complete the dare,” replied Tyr, inwardly cringing as her fingers continued to
stroke his neck, her lower hand inching toward his groin. She made his skin
crawl. There was something soulless in her eyes that repelled and all he could
do to continue this game was to cling to the memory of beautiful, warm liquid
gold eyes. They were his lifeline.

“I will,” she promised, “but we will have
to wait for Abra to come back. He did say I was to stay here and entertain
you.” Her hand began rubbing his crotch. Tyr was thankful his body did not
respond. “It’s your turn now.”

“Truth.”

Her eyes glanced to his lower body in
disappointment from the lack of reaction. “Do you find me attractive?” Her
tongue licked his cheek.

“You are beautiful.” He said it without
hesitation and it was the truth. She was an exquisite creature. To look at. He
didn’t need to mention her repulsive personality.

Her tongue moved to his ear. A shudder
ripped through Tyr’s body and he felt the hairs on his neck straighten again.
Rusalka responded more feverishly, interpreting his revulsion as desire.

“I choose truth now,” she whispered in his
ear. “Ask me anything.”

“I heard you keep two girls in your
playroom. Is this true?”

Rusalka hesitated, her eyes flickering up
to his face, lust evident in her gaze. “So you would like to have party in my
playroom, would you? A war party perhaps?” She released a throaty gurgle,
pleased with her own joke.

“Well I guess that depends on the girls.
Who are they?”

“Oh, just two dark sisters I inherited,
fallen on hard times. I like to think I’m educating them.”

“Are your playmates unwilling then?” Tyr
pursued his line of questioning trying to discern her meaning. It sounded as if
the two girls could be Melanie and Delora.

Rusalka withdrew her caressing and licking,
slight traces of ire in her tone when she replied. “You seem rather too
interested in them, War. I thought this game was about you and me. Let’s get
back on track now. It’s your turn again and you should choose dare.”

Tyr had an idea where she was going with
this and was reluctant to make the next move, but he knew that if she had
doubts about him then Abrasax would be informed and then it would be Game Over.
“Okay,” he said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “What do you dare me to do?”

“Now you’re talking.” She slithered her
body across his chest. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Her request came as no surprise but still
every fiber of his being rebelled against the draw of Rusalka’s lips. His body
tensed as she pressed into him, her face mere inches from his. Tyr steeled
himself against her touch. Sometimes you have to sacrifice a pawn if you want
to save the queen. Unfortunately in this instance he was the pawn! He steeled
himself as she draped her body over him and leaned in for the kiss.

Tyr immediately felt a familiar static
energy enter his body that had nothing to do with Rusalka and everything to do
with a pair of liquid amber eyes that bored into his as he turned his gaze to
the opening door. “Well hello. Apologies for interrupting your playtime,
Rusalka.” Abrasax’s familiar voice brimmed with satisfaction. “Tyr, I believe
some acquaintances of yours have come to pay us a visit.” He grabbed Irina by
the arm and pulled her forward into the room.

Liquid eyes met black. Fire raged in the
dark. Gold eyes blazed in fury then quickly dispelled the flames, leaving only
a blank emptiness.
They have Irina
! Tyr’s nails dug into his palm in
shock and a rage so strong that every muscle in his body strained toward her.
He registered Moloch’s grip on her arm and nearly flew at him. Somehow he
stayed the motion, his strategic brain calculating the odds and speculating
that they weren’t good.

The sight of Cassi standing behind, gripped
by Dagon only intensified his anger. She should have known better. Kept Irina
away. Lyra was safe. He’d left word with Alcina to tell Irina he would return,
so what the hell had gone wrong? Why were they here?

The next few minutes for Tyr unfurled like
a slow-motion replay from a live-action movie. Irina stumbled forward, her
emotions written clearly on her face, moving from initial shock to denial, then
ferocious anger as she stared horrified between the Tyr and the woman fused
against him. Her small frame trembled and he thought she was going to collapse.
He was wrong. She tore her arm free from the grip that held her in place and
with explosive force launched herself at Rusalka, wrenching her by the hair and
ripping her off his lap. “Get away from him, you bitch!” she screamed, the
sound of her fury matched by the force of her attack.

Rusalka appeared momentarily stunned by the
hurricane that was Irina. Recovering, she uncurled herself from the floor where
she had landed, having been swung around by her long tresses. “You’ll pay for
that, little girl!” she hissed, a snarl of venomous poison in her voice as she
regained her balance, charging back at Irina, sharp claws unsheathed,
razor-like nails aiming for her face.

Tyr’s first instinct was to kill Rusalka
himself to protect Irina from harm. He couldn’t, but he needed to make some
kind of intervention or Rusalka would carve Irina to pieces. Biting the bullet
he reined in his need for Rusalka’s blood and instead planted his massive frame
in front of Irina, a barrier separating the warring factions, preventing her
attack and eventual massacre. Irina could not be hurt. Not ever. Rusalka was a
formidable fighter. He could tell by the way her body moved that she was well
versed in martial arts. His little dove wouldn’t last five seconds in combat
against her.

Pushing Rusalka away, he turned to face
Irina in an effort to quell her anger. Immediately he felt the crack of that
same little dove’s palm connect with his cheek, the sting of her hand a sharp
twisting stab to his soul. She rained more blows with her small fists onto his
chest her head barely reaching where she hit. He hardly felt the pain on his
skin but he felt it intensely elsewhere, a garrotte around his heart. He knew
it was deserved. Tyr grabbed hold of her wrists as she struggled to get free.
“Leave her alone, Irina,” he warned.

Irina stopped struggling. “You bastard son
of a bitch!” Her voice a low, trembling vibration cutting through his flesh,
her eyes glistening liquid gold with unshed tears. “Did you ever care?”

“Irina, calm down,” he cautioned.

“Well, well, War and Peace together again,
although you’d be hard-pressed to tell which is which. Not very peaceful is
she, Tyr?” Abrasax broke in and at the same time signaled Rusalka, who was
looking to charge at Irina again, to stand down. She slunk into the corner to
lick her wounds, seething with indignation.

Abrasax pulled Irina away from Tyr. The
frozen expression on her face sent a stab of ice straight to his gut, but he
had to continue the façade. Irina had stopped struggling the minute Abrasax
took hold of her, the fight all but gone, her body left trembling in the
aftershock of dissipated fury. He couldn’t bear that Abrasax had his hands on
her. Tyr’s nails drew blood as he clenched his fists with barely restrained
fury.

Abrasax drew a long nail down Irina’s
cheek. “I must thank you, Tyr. Not only did you bring us the pendant but you
brought us the lovely Peace as well and she really is quite lovely.” He turned
to Cassi, still being held by Moloch. “And we have the added bonus of this
particular Eunomi warrior. You’ve been quite a thorn in our side for a while
now.”

“Love you too, Abrasax. I didn’t realized I
held such a warm place in your heart. If I had I would have come sooner,” said
Cassi with a smile.

“Ah, Cassiopeia, you certainly have spirit.
I am sure that Choronzon will be quite taken with you. Have you ever been to
Chthonia?”

“No, but I hear it’s pretty lively at this
time of year and I’ve wanted to meet Choronzon for a long time. They say he’s
quite the ladies’ man.”

“Yes, he loves to eat them, my dear. You
might be lucky. Your fire might help you survive longer than most of the
others. Moloch, take them back to the cells until the transport is ready,
Choronzon is expecting them.”

Tyr tried to appear nonchalant. “Abrasax,
you have the pendants. You don’t need them. They are unnecessary. Let them go.”
He needed to know Irina was safe.

“I beg to differ, Tyr. We will keep hold of
them both. I am a little alarmed at your concern for them. I hope you are not
thinking of changing allegiance.”

“My allegiance is the same as it’s always
been,” said Tyr.
To myself and now to Irina.

“Good,” said Abrasax, appraising Tyr with a
calculating glint in his eye. “Right now I need you to go with Rusalka while I
attend to some other business.” He turned to Cassi with smug satisfaction. “I
have to put in place some welcoming gifts for your Eunomi friends.”

Tyr saw the revulsion in Cassi’s eyes.
“What goes around, Abrasax—remember karma’s a bitch and she’s a good friend of
mine. We’ll both be seeing you.” She blew him a kiss as Moloch pushed her and
Irina toward the door.

Tyr had no option but to follow Rusalka,
turning away from Cassi and Irina, going left as the women went right. Rusalka
draped her arms over him as they exited the office, her eyes focused on Irina
in triumphant glee. Irina ignored them both completely, her gaze steadfastly
fixed ahead. He couldn’t blame her but he had wanted to try to give her some
signal, some reassurance. Every step that increased the distance between them
was like a death knell, a barbed dart piercing his heart, each stab an agony
that bit into his resolve. He was so close to Melanie and Delora. If he gave in
to his protective urges now, the game would be lost.

The fact that Cassi was with Irina gave him
a small amount of comfort. She was a two-thousand-five-hundred-year-old
warrior, so she must have some survival tricks up her sleeves. Plus he knew
Borealis was on his way. As long as he could locate the girls quickly he would
be able to go back for Irina before their transport came. He would bide his
time, play a waiting game and do something that didn’t come naturally—place his
trust in others. He had to have faith in the Eunomi Alliance.