Dead After Dark (40 page)

“Rise, Belador. I will not kill a man on his knees.”

Trey clenched his teeth to contain the scream of pain that shot up his legs as he struggled to his feet. His gaze wavered to where Sasha stood with arms wrapped around her middle, shivering, her beautiful face contorted in agony, crying. He could not fail her.

He took a rasping breath and turned toward Vyan, drawing on what minimal power he had left to attack. But when he stepped forward, his legs almost buckled.

Vyan reacted swiftly, lifting the sword high in an arc intended to strike Trey in the center of his head and split his upper body in half.

The sword began the long descent with Trey powerless to stop the inevitable. Inches from his skull, Vyan went flying backward, landing against a tree and hitting the ground.

Trey stared in shock. What the hell had happened?

Then he felt the presence of another supernatural, more than one. Out of the black sheets of rain slashing through the park, three images took shape. Two men and a female.
The men were Beladors he’d fought beside before—Tzader Burke and Quinn Vladimir. The woman stood an easy six feet tall . . . and was an Alterant, a mix of Belador and some other species.

“What are you three doing here?” he croaked out.

“Helping you,” Quinn replied, smoothing the water off the top of his blond hair slicked back into a ponytail. Decked out in a sleek black and silver tuxedo, his lean form belonged on a runway somewhere. But the international stock trader had probably come to the park from some shindig in downtown Atlanta. The spectacles covering his eyes had undoubtedly been crafted somewhere like Switzerland, one of a kind.

“Not tonight, Quinn.” Trey gasped for air with each breath, his mind foggy. He wanted to go to Sasha, who stood wide-eyed and unharmed so far, but he wouldn’t take the risk of her being burned alive. He shot a look at where the warrior had been tossed. Vyan didn’t move, which meant nothing. The guy was probably playing possum to assess the new arrivals.

Trey frowned at the trio. “Don’t tell me you forgot what tonight is, Tzader.”

“Not likely.” Tzader couldn’t be more different from Quinn if he tried, with his black hair curling and thick on top, buzz cut on the sides. His coffee-brown skin glistened with energy and menace. Twelve-inch knives clipped to each hip would gut anything, living or otherwise. Close inspection of the serrated edges revealed fanged teeth. Not as tall as Trey or Quinn, Tzader’s sleeveless shirt stretched to contain a body wrapped in two hundred and twenty-five pounds of badass muscle.

“I’m Evalle Kincaid,” the brunette Amazon purred as “eeval.” “Unlike the three of you purebreds, my energy is not bleeding out right now. And unlike you, Trey, these two have conserved their powers and energy since midnight. So we need to get busy before your buddy over there regains consciousness.”
Her designer glasses rested against a pert nose and high cheeks. Her vision must be extremely sensitive for her to shield her eyes behind dark shades at night in a storm.

“No!” Trey argued and paid for the effort with a dagger of pain to his lung. Were they demented? “This isn’t a sanctioned battle and I’m not risking all of your lives.” Linking with Beladors increased their powers exponentially, but if one died in battle while linked, they all did.

“We all took an oath,” Quinn interjected. “What kind of honor would we have if we didn’t back you up? And Evalle is right. We need to get to it.”

“You can’t do this. The penalty will be high.” He could only hope Macha would penalize him alone and spare the tribe.

“You don’t have a say,” Evalle said in a tone that indicated she was bored with the conversation. “When Brina says it’s on, it’s on. Like I said, the sooner the . . .” She angled her head toward the tree where Vyan had landed and muttered, “Too late, he’s rousing. Let’s link now.”

Brina sent them? Trey couldn’t believe it.

Why not, Trey
? Brina sounded peeved.

I thought you wouldn’t back this battle
.

I told you, I protect my tribe. Even hardheaded warriors like you. I’ll worry about Macha as soon as you kick this fool’s butt back to that giant rock he climbed out from under
.

The trio spread out, and Trey began to feel their energy flood his feeble body. He drew one breath, then another, standing taller with each infusion from the linking.

Vyan strolled toward him as if he were unconcerned about the new developments. He pointed a finger at his jacket on the ground and it flew to him. When he had the coat on, he lifted the stone from his coat pocket.

Trey cursed at not thinking to grab the stone.

“You would not have held the stone long, for it chooses its master,” Vyan said, obviously snagging Trey’s thoughts. He
lifted the multicolored rock and murmured foreign words. “Your combined power will not match mine, Beladors.” He spit out the last word as if the tribe’s name seared his tongue.

The trio moved in, but Trey held up his hand. “I’ll fight him alone.”

“Let’s help your odds,” Evalle suggested. All the lights in the park and surrounding areas went out. Trey blinked, not believing his sharp vision.

You have my vision
, Evalle said in Trey’s mind.
The Kujoo can see too, but not with the high-definition optics you now have
.

Thanks
, Trey sent back, then closed his mind to everything but confronting Vyan.

Vyan came at him, his blade sizzling with electricity along the edge. Trey dodged the first strike, spinning away and searching for a weapon. The thought had barely escaped his mind when he held Tzader’s two knives.

The blades actually snarled, fangs extended, when Trey lifted them to brace against Vyan’s next strike. The warrior fought with one hand wielding his sword and the other holding the stone that radiated spears of multicolored lights. Bolts of lightning sliced the air around them. Trey blocked charge after charge from Vyan with the knives until he saw a chance to knock the stone loose.

Trey threw one knife, aiming for Vyan’s wrist, which supported the stone. The knife bounced away before it reached him. Vyan smiled and pointed the stone at Trey’s other hand. His second knife flew out of his palm.

Tzader whistled and both weapons returned to his side.

“Take mine,” came an order from behind Trey. He turned to find Lucien who produced a sword from thin air and sent it spinning end over end. Trey caught the weapon; that felt too light to be any good. He glanced at Lucien, who stood next to Sasha. Rowan was beside him wearing a yellow slicker, not looking anything like a witch.

Lucien crossed his arms, grinning. “You two go ahead. I just came to watch.”

Which goddess of fate had it in for Trey to stick him with Lucien and his twisted sense of humor? And Rowan who could go airborne and out of control at any minute?

“Bring in a legion of warriors, Belador,” Vyan said, waving the stone. “Nothing can stop me with this. When I am done with this one,” he called out, pointing at Trey, “I will call forth Ravana who will dispense with the rest of you next.”

“Bring it on,” Tzader shot back.

Sasha couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. She swiped a clump of wet hair from her face and turned to Rowan. “Can you do anything to help Trey?”

Rowan shook her head, water flicking from the hood of her slicker. “I could make it worse.”

Sasha didn’t think that was possible. Her heart raced at every move Trey and Vyan made. She had to help Trey somehow. Vyan had warned her not to, but how could he know who sent Trey help with this group present? And where had all these beings come from?

Metal clanged as Vyan attacked and Trey battled back. Trey fought with both hands on his sword, but Vyan didn’t even seem winded . . . because of that stone, Sasha realized. He could be beat without the rock. She felt sure of it.

Trey battled Vyan to the edge of the pond that ran beneath the footbridge in the south end of the park. Vyan stumbled once, but bounced up on the balls of his feet as if he just hadn’t been paying attention. Trey and Vyan’s strikes echoed through the air until Trey missed his step and Vyan’s blade sliced so close to his neck Sasha felt light-headed with fear.

Trey roared and shoved up, swinging that sword like a major leaguer with an aluminum baseball bat, driving Vyan backward to the pond.

Sasha saw her chance and began to chant, “Earth, wind, and rain, hear me well. . . .”

Vyan’s coat lengthened, dragging the ground as he backed toward a quickly forming mud hole. He stepped on the tail of the coat, arms flailing to keep his balance, but his momentum threw him backward. The stone flew from his hand to the pond, boiling the water as it sank. Within seconds the glow from beneath the surface extinguished.

Five bolts of lightning struck the ground between her and Trey, exploding dirt from the hole it created. Howling preceded a wispy form that rose from the earth and hovered until the smoke cleared, leaving a dark man with Middle Eastern facial structure similar to Vyan’s. But this male’s eyes were a molten gold with red irises. He bared pointed teeth that dripped blood from the tips. His short hair started growing into lengths that thickened and took the form of serpents, hissing and striking the air around his head.

“Ravana, I have lost the stone,” Vyan cried out, scrambling to his feet.

“Do not despair.” Ravana pointed his hands at empty spots, and everywhere he directed, a mangle of arms, legs, and battered heads took shape as creatures Sasha had never seen. “They come from Fene and fear nothing since they live in hell’s armpit.”

Twenty creatures shrieked to life, their heads scabbed and rotting, their skin as dark as roasted meat. Sasha tried not to breathe in the wave of noxious stench clogging the air. Rags hung from the creatures’ bodies, but that’s where the disparity stopped. Muscles wrapped their torsos and limbs with sinewy tissue that gleamed like bands of woven metals. They crouched, pawing the ground as if waiting to be released.

A beautiful auburn-haired woman appeared next as a hologram with eyes so green they’d compete with an emerald struck by the sun. Her translucent skin was covered with
a mint-green robe that sparkled when she moved, but she never completely took shape.

“Hi, Brina,” Evalle said to the hologram, then muttered, “It’s definitely on, now.” The gleam in her smile that curved below the dark shades on the Amazon raised the hair on Sasha’s arms, which was saying something at this point tonight. She wouldn’t want to face this woman in a dark alley. The tall female stomped her boots and silver razor-sharp tips shot from around the soles. She shook her hands once, the water slinging away, and sharp points erupted from the smooth skin of her palm. Spiked cartilage raised along the back of her hands and up her arms to her shoulders.

“Beladors, unite and defend,” Brina shouted in a voice so strong Sasha wondered if the woman was truly just an image.

“ ’Bout time.” Tzader spun the knives in his hands as fast as a fan blade on high.

“I should say so,” Quinn drawled, clearly tired of inactivity. He reached both hands inside his jacket and withdrew four triangular discs with daggers at each corner and a woven Celtic design in the center.

Sasha’s ears were burning. What witch besides Rowan was present? This burning was hotter than anything she’d experienced before. She glanced at Rowan who rubbed her ear and searched the crowd with narrowed eyes.

“Destroy the Beladors, demons.” Ravana waved his hands, which must have been the sign to attack.

“Why aren’t you helping Trey?” Sasha demanded of Lucien.

“I gave him a sword.” Lucien shrugged.

Sasha dismissed him and her burning ear. At this point, what did it matter if another witch was present?

The shrieking demons leaped into action. Tzader dove headfirst into the fray, taking out two with knives he wielded with blinding speed. Sasha never saw the cuts, but arms and heads rolled away, turning her stomach.

Trey and Vyan were back at it, but now it was a fair fight with no help from that blasted stone. Shouts, screams, and unearthly howls carpeted the air. Bodies hitting the ground and each other, splashing blood-soaked mud everywhere. The stench of death permeated each suffocating breath Sasha drew. Her ears felt as though they were on fire.

Her gaze tracked to Trey just as he turned to cover Evalle’s back while she fought hand to hand against three demons, slashing off one’s head with a kick of her boot. Vyan swung his blade in a wide arc toward Trey’s head.

Sasha screamed at the top of her lungs for Trey to watch out. He spun toward her, Vyan’s blade barely missing him.

“Behind you!” Sasha yelled.

Trey whirled around fast and knocked Vyan to the ground, pinning Vyan with the sword at his throat.

Ravana bellowed, “Kill him and you will face me, Belador! Demons, cease!”

All fighting slowed. The trio of Belador fighters backed up to one another, weapons ready to continue. The creatures slobbered blood, dropping down to all fours and pawing the ground again.

“You any better a warrior than him, Ravana?” Trey chided.

Ravana took a step forward.

“Enough!” The booming voice that rocked the park bounced from earth to the heavens and back. A man stepped from thin air and Sasha’s jaw dropped at the striking vision. Men shouldn’t be beautiful. Shimmering mahogany hair hung to his shoulders. He brushed his hand over his head in an impatient gesture and his hair flew back into a pony-tail, a leather tie holding it in place. Smooth olive-toned skin covered his cut body and the sharp-angled face. The scar slashing his forehead only added to his mystique. Mediterranean-blue eyes were Asian shaped. He had to
stand close to six-foot-six and strode into the midst of the war zone as though he owned this planet.

“Hey, Sen. How’s it hangin’?” Tzader called to the new arrival.

Sen glowered at him then swept his gaze over the battle-field. “You are
all
at fault for warring among civilians.” His glare dared anyone to challenge him. He wore a leather vest, chain belt with skull engravings, and snug jeans that suggested he was hanging just fine to answer Tzader’s lewd question. He shoved both hands to the heavens, flexing those rockin’ biceps, his face hard and his voice terse when he spoke, yet undecipherable. The rainstorm continued, but the water fell away from where they congregated. He’d thrown an invisible canopy over them.