Chosen (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-eight

T
his time, seeing her twice-dead husband caused a strange sort of empowerment to override Kyana's numb panic. The need to avenge Artemis's death propelled her back to her feet. She'd faced the bastard twice now, and both times, he'd ended up dead. Confident this outcome would be the same, she lunged, curling her fingers into claws, determined to rip out his eyes and feed them to his asshole.

But as Kyana collided with him, Mehmet ripped his wand from his sleeve.

“
Püskürtmek!
”

Kyana flew backward, slamming into the wall and smashing the back of her skull against the stairs. Stars burst before her eyes, and before her vision could clear, Mehmet had her by the throat again.

“This time,
you
will die.”

Her lungs burning, Kyana released an angry hiss. The image of his burning face the last time they'd met fed her courage and she lifted her hands, summoning the same strange energy she'd felt when she'd sent him through the brick wall. A light burst from her palm, pummeling him in the chest and lifting him off his feet. She thrust her hand forward, forcing his grip to slip from her throat, then sent him sailing over the side of the turret. Let him find the same fate he'd given to Artemis! Let him be torn to pieces by the beasts below!

But as his body hovered in the air and she prepared to release him to his fate, he grinned, snapped the tether, and
flew
right back over the ledge to land in front of her.

Mages couldn't fly. Kyana couldn't process what she'd just seen.

One stumbling footstep backward was all she could manage as Mehmet tossed her down the steps like a rag doll. She rolled to a stop, her head cracking into the iron banister. Too late, she saw the boot heading for her face. Pain exploded in her jaw. Blood filled her mouth and pooled from her hair to stream over her eyes and cheeks.

“Where's all your fight now,
hanim
?”

Her hands finally free, she gripped her conduit and tried to block out Mehmet's menacing stare to find her center, her strength. As he lifted his boot once again toward her face, she grabbed his leg and twisted, listening with pleasure as bones crackled and snapped and she knocked him to the floor. She was on top of him in a blink, pinning him to the marble steps.

“Don't you ever call me that again,
pislik.
”

That was precisely what he was. Filth. An insignificant asshat who didn't own her anymore. Kyana reached deep inside, searching for the power to send Mehmet to his death for the third, and gods willing, final time.

“You waste your time.” With almost no effort, he broke free of Kyana's weight and slithered to the bottom of the stairs like the snake he was. As he rose to his feet, he summoned his newfound magic to send her onto her back. “I am prepared for your tricks this time, Kyana.”

She fought with everything she had, both as the Dark Breed she'd once been and the goddess she'd become. But nothing in her small arsenal could help her break the magical bond pinning her to the floor. The same magical bond that she'd used on him when she'd killed him for the second time only days ago.

The more she struggled, the tighter his hold on her became. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't break free. He came at her, rushing the stairs as though riding the wind. As he reached for her throat, she gripped his arms, trying to shove him away. He didn't budge. The hall began to fade. Her vision clouded. Her muscles went numb from lack of oxygen. Her brain slowed, and her struggles finally stopped.

Kyana accepted death. She wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing her fear this time.

As she gave in to the inevitable, the tingling began in her fingertips and slowly climbed up her arms. The conduit at her wrist pulsed. Heat pooled in her chest and exploded outward until her entire body danced with electricity.

Opening her eyes, she stared at the tiny arrow. The amber glowed bright orange, floating off her wrist like a snake charmer's cobra, the sharp, pointed tip dipping toward Mehmet's hand, calling her attention to a familiar ring that glowed with the same intensity as Kyana's conduit.

Cronos's ring.

Was that what was making him so much damned stronger than last time? Had Cronos given it to him just so Mehmet could be the one to send Kyana to her grave?

The power of her own conduit surfed her veins, and Mehmet's hold on her loosened. She seized his arms, running him backward into the wall, then concentrated on one word.

“
Sino in nex
.”

Mehmet's pale arms grew yellow as the veins beneath the thin skin blackened, disease spreading through his body. The fine black lines chased one another up his arms, to his neck, covering his face. He gripped his throat, his eyes wide. His features shifted, morphed before returning to place.

The disease should have stopped his newly beating heart. That it hadn't was proof that Cronos's ring was giving him more power than he should rightfully possess.

“You bastard!” she screamed, pressing her foot to his belly as she gripped his finger, wrenching the offensive jewel from his hand as she sent him tumbling feet over head to land belly down at the foot of the stairs.

Satisfied that she'd stolen his source of strength, she took each stair toward him slowly, using each step to regain a fraction more of her strength and power so that when she finally reached him, she was nearly coming out of her skin with the energies resurfacing.

When he finally stood, his back to her, she froze in a moment of hesitation at the slight shake of his shoulders. He was laughing.

Laughing!

Seizing his arm, she spun him around, determined to give him his final death this time.

But it wasn't Mehmet glaring down at her now. It was Cronos.

Chapter Twenty-nine

T
he fight outside was becoming dangerously close to the temple. So close in fact that everyone inside the throne room now had his weapons out and at the ready.

Ryker fondled his conduit and stepped out of the crowd, tired of watching and standing still. He made his way to the corner of the room where Geoffrey sat holding Haven. She was finally coming to, whatever spell she'd been hit with wearing off.

“How is she?”

Geoff glanced up, readjusting Haven in his arms. “She'll be fine. You should have let me fetch her, though. You could have been killed.”

“You're not immune to that threat either.”

Geoff was too emotionally involved with Haven to have been rational enough to make sure he remained protected if he'd gone after her. He would have rushed to her, forgetting the need to protect who and what he was now. Gods knew, Ryker would have been as mindless had it been Kyana lying injured on the battlegrounds.

“Is she strong enough for you to leave her now?” Ryker asked. “I need you to gather yourself. The fight is being brought to us.”

Geoff nodded, though he looked reluctant to let Haven go. He settled her in the corner, propping her so that she'd be upright as she became fully awake.

“I might be able to buy us some time. Can you get the Witches to unseal one of the windows?” Geoffrey asked.

“What do you have in mind?”

Geoffrey lifted the amulet from around his neck and palmed it. “Stand back, mate.”

Ryker obeyed and watched black light flicker from the cracks in Geoff's fist and drop to the ground. The marble floor shook, cracked, and between the split stone, thick oillike ooze crept into the room and pooled around Geoff's feet.

“
Meus pets, ego liceor vos venire contra vestri vinco!
”

The ooze stretched and lengthened, taking the shape of three massive, red-eyed hellhounds and three dead, eyeless soldiers.

“My pets,” Geoffrey said. “Open the window. Let them out and they'll cause enough diversion to give us a bit more time to ready ourselves for their attack.”

More than a tad impressed, Ryker backed away, his gaze riveted on the waist-high dogs with six-inch fangs. He'd never seen Hades call forth anything like that, but then there'd never really been cause before.

“Unseal the eastern window,” he instructed the trio of Witches watching from the opposite corner of the room. “One of you needs to be ready to seal it again the second I tell you.”

“We can try. It takes time to regenerate that spell and you just had us unseal the room to save that Witch—”

“Just make it happen,” Ryker snapped.

They nodded, the smallest among them stepping onto a table, readying herself to cast the sealing spell at Ryker's command. He motioned Geoffrey and his pets over. The instant the blue light around the windows vanished, Ryker threw it open and Geoffrey gave instructions to his minions. They leaped over the sill and into the night air outside, and as the window was resealed, the screams outside intensified.

Geoffrey's pets were doing their jobs.

“How long will they give us?” he asked Geoff.

“Thirty minutes. Maybe le—”

A scream split the air, turning all eyes toward the door. Ryker shoved his way through the crowd, his heart suddenly pounding.

“Kyana.”

He glanced at Geoffrey, and together they sprinted toward the door leading to the stairs outside. Silas quickly joined them and Ryker glanced back at the Witches. “Unseal it! Now!”

“We can't!” the smallest girl wailed. “We have to wait for the residue of the last cast to fade. Ten minutes, tops!”

They didn't have ten minutes. Kyana screamed again and it sounded like she was halfway up the staircase, the noise muffled but noticeably above them and behind the door. He slammed his shoulder into the door, joined by Geoff and Silas, but no amount of pounding, pushing, or cursing had any effect on the magic.

Ryker ripped the staff from his side and snapped it to its full length. “Stand back!”

Geoff and Silas barely had time to dive out of the line of fire before Ryker shot an energy bolt at the door. Once. Twice. The third blast caused the mahogany to splinter. The fourth shattered the doors, leaving them hanging awkwardly on their hinges.

Shoving the heavy doors out of the way, Ryker led the way up the marble stairs to the turret chamber, his staff at the ready.

“Ky!” he bellowed as they rounded the corner leading to the towers. Kyana soared into view, landing at their feet with a bone-jarring thud. Dodging her fist as she blindly struck out at him, he lifted her off the ground and pinned her tightly to his side.

“This way,” Geoff called, leading them into the nearest room.

Ryker locked his arms around Kyana and dragged her backward, his many questions forgotten beneath the frantic need to get her safely away from whatever had caused her panic.

“Seal it,” he ordered Silas.

Silas shook his head. “I can't spellcraft. Haven still has my Witch blood.”

“Shit.” Ryker's gaze quickly took in the blood and bruises on Kyana's face and neck. “How many?”

She shook off his hands and tried to lunge for the door. “Let me go! I have to stop him before he can complete the spell.”

It was Geoffrey who snatched her back. “Answer him, lass. How many made it inside the temple?”

Ancient words, in a rhythmic baritone, swelled until they filled every corner of the small room they'd taken refuge in. They all looked to Silas, but the words weren't coming from him.

“What the hell is that?” he asked.

“It's Cronos!” Kyana bellowed. “He killed Artemis and he claims he can separate my soul from my body. He has something of mine . . . Ryker, we have to stop him!”

Ryker felt his blood drain from his face. He'd never seen such stark terror on Kyana's face before, and the sight of it now shook him to his core. He glanced over her head to Silas. “Can he do that?”

The ghostly pale complexion of the temporary Poseidon was answer enough. Ryker raced to the door, threw it open, and found himself staring at a mesmerizing display of lights. The entire turret chamber was ablaze with golds and greens, blues and reds, and in the center of them all stood a dark figure, hands thrust heavenward.

Determined to wrap his arms around the bastard's head and rip it off his neck, Ryker leaped through the air. But as he prepared to land upon Cronos's back, one of the red lights spiraled upward, then down to coil around Ryker's torso. It threw him up, his head cracking against the rafters before releasing him to fall in a painful heap at the feet of his companions.

“What did he take of yours? It would have to be really personal for him to do what you said,” Silas asked as Kyana grabbed Ryker's arm and pulled him safely away from the lights that danced precariously close to his feet.

“I don't know.”

The daze was finally wearing off Ryker as he pushed to his feet. Okay, good. Cronos hadn't shown her anything so maybe it was a bluff. Maybe he didn't have anything. Kyana was shaking, her body coated in a fine sheen of sweat.

“Damn it,” Silas muttered. “Try your staff, Ryker. It's the most powerful of our conduits. If he really has something, he can do what he threatened. Break through his protection spell, now!”

Ryker seized the staff that had rolled to the other side of the room when he'd hit the ceiling. Kyana's body was in reactive mode, dancing around the lights in an effort to keep them from attacking her as they had him, but her gaze was frozen on Cronos's back. What the hell did he have of hers? Was he lying?

Something inside her told her Cronos wasn't the sort to bluff, but she couldn't think of anything she was missi—

“No. Oh gods, Ryker . . .” She reached for him, her gaze locked on the flicker of silver protruding from Cronos's long velvet coat. Silver that led to black and to silver again. A very familiar design. A very familiar weapon. But it didn't belong to her.

It belonged to Geoffrey.

It was his dagger. The one she'd found at Cronos's camp. The one he'd lost in her room that Cronos must have taken because he'd thought it belonged to
her
.

If Cronos was successful, she wasn't the one in danger.

“No!” She rushed to the lights as Cronos smiled down on her. She didn't need to hear him speak, she could read everything he was thinking in his sadistic smile. He was nearly finished, and she was about to die.

Only she wasn't.

The lights ripped at her skin, searing her like laser beams, but she pressed forward, ignoring Ryker's clawing hands as he tried to drag her back.

But it was too late. The lights began to evaporate. Cronos laughed. He pulled the dagger from his robes and thrust it into the lingering, brightest light.

There came a sickening thump, and a look of confusion washed over Cronos's face as his gaze fell to the floor behind her.

Kyana turned, her legs shaking, her heart splintering as she knew what she was going to find.

Behind her, Geoffrey lay facedown, his body badly broken into distorted angles. His dark eyes blank and unblinking. Kyana had never in her life felt more helpless than she did as she watched his soul tear away from his body and disappear into the night.

He was gone.