Forbidden Passion (30 page)

Dante flipped off the radio, certain Zion was responsible. If he thought Dante would join him in the underworld now, he was wrong.

He would destroy him instead and put an end to his reign of terror.

It wouldn’t bring Marlena or his child back, but he’d do it in memory of them.

Marlena was so cold. Cold and alone.

Oddly, there was no pain anymore, just a fleeting feeling of having lost something important. A sensation of floating as if she had drifted from her body and was watching the scene below her.

She lay in a dark cavelike room on a blanket, a slice of moon illuminating her deathly still body. Blood soaked her blouse and chest, her skin was pale white.

Dante was gone. And so was the demon who’d stabbed her. The ‘demon who’d told her that Dante had been sent to kill her.

Was this really death?

The end ‘of her life on Earth?

Shock and anger gripped her as she realized what she would miss. She and Dante would never be together. Her baby would never be born.

She would never finish her work, never find that cure for violent and aberrant behavior.

The darkness beckoned, voices whispering to her to join them. An evil voice promising eternal life if she offered her soul to walk with Satan. Skeletal fingers clawed at her, begging her to join the undead as they defied nature and returned to the land of the living.

 
But those were the very evil forces who had tortured Dante. The ones he’d fought to save her. The ones in human form that she’d tried, to cure with her research.

 
She would never become one of them.

 
Then a bright white light broke into the churning tunnel, trying to draw her into its peaceful core, a light so beautiful and alluring’ that she turned away from that dark tunnel and gravitated toward it.

 
Heaven.
. .
the light she’d heard about, it did exist. Soft, entrancing, soothing, peaceful, it beckoned.

 
Her mother was there, standing in its midst, her little sister beside her, her hand enfolded in her mother’s. Sparkling crystalline lights shimmered around them in a halo, like tiny diamonds glowing against an inky darkness.

 
She wanted to dive into it, to let the peaceful light wash over her and assuage the pain of her failures and the loss of her future.

 
Her future lay here now with her mother and sister.

 
She reached out her hand, stepped toward the light to walk into it and join them.

The light had completely disintegrated in Dante’s mind and soul.

 
It had died with Marlena and his child.

 
How could he have failed them?

 
Vengeance hurled him through the storm as he battled the wind and blinding rain on his way toward Eerie. He and his brothers had to formulate a plan, a foolproof plan to destroy Zion.

 
And not just destroy him but torture him, make him stiffer.

 
Tension knotted his shoulders as he wound up the curves toward Vincent’s cabin. Oddly for the home of a powerful demon, the place looked homey. Normal.

 
Nothing about his life had been normal, though, and it never would be. Their demon blood had cursed him forever.

He parked the SUV, stray limbs pelting him as the vicious wind ripped them from the trees and hurled them across the yard.

He tugged his jacket around him and jogged up to the porch, then climbed the steps. He’d never thought he’d come here for help. But he needed his brothers now to exact his revenge.

And nothing would stop him from doing so.

In spite of the weather, Quinton had already arrived, and the two men met him at the door. Two women stood by a fire, both looking worried and anxious. Again, he wondered if he could trust them, but he had no choice. He needed help.

And vengeance against Zion was worth the chance.

“This is my wife, Annabelle Armstrong,” Quinton said as he slid a protective arm around her shoulders.

Dante recognized her from CNN. “You know what we are and you married him anyway?”

She gave a small laugh and pressed a kiss to Quinton’s cheek. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

Vincent cleared his throat. “And this is my wife, Clarissa. She is a medium.”

Dante studied her serious, pensive face. “You talk to the dead?”

She nodded. “I’m so sorry about Dr. Bender.”

He sucked in a painful breath. “Have you seen her spirit?

She shook her head. “No, but that’s not unusual. When a person first passes, some souls go into shock. It takes time for the souls to realize what’s happened.” She paused and offered a sympathetic smile. “Of course, she has a good soul. There’s always the possibility that she’s at peace, that she has already crossed into the light.”

His chest ached at the thought that she was gone forever. That his child would never be born.

A soul-deep ache hit him, and rage once again heated his blood.

“Tell us what happened,” Vincent said. “Who killed

Dante tried to pull himself together. He had to vanquish Zion, then he could mourn his lost family. “Dr. Edmund Raysen.”

“Raysen, the doctor who worked with Dr. Bender?” Vincent scrubbed a hand over his chin.

“Yes. Apparently he stole the blood from her research project and used it in his own sick experiment. He even used himself as a subject. Then he showed us a flash drive documenting the experiment that he claimed was Snëed’s.”

“It wasn’t Sneed’s?” Quinton asked.

“No.”

“What was on the flash drive?” Vincent asked.

“Notes revealing his subjects were experiencing disturbing reactions, including violent behavior, schizophrenia, sexual deviancy, and bloodlust. So he turned those subjects into his hit list.”

“Why would he do that?” Annabelle asked.

“I don’t know. Either he feared the others would turn violent as well, or he didn’t want news of his experiment to be revealed and his reputation to be tainted.”

Vincent crossed his arms. “He thought he was doing a noble thing by killing his test subjects?”

“Raysen wasn’t noble. In the end, he killed Marlena.” Dante stiffened, a coldness seeping through him that he’d lived with for years and battled. A coldness he embraced now. He would need all his demonic strength and power to defeat his father. “Zion was responsible. Raysen confirmed that he ordered him to destroy my child.”

Dante studied his brothers’ faces. “He also said that you two had joined Zion’s side.”

Vincent and Quinton exchanged wary looks. “Zion will do anything to try to divide us, because he knows our powers combined can destroy him.”

Dante felt a surge of emotion—of kinship to his blood brothers. He’d been alone his entire life. Had never wanted or needed anyone.

But he would accept their help to end Zion’s reign of terror.

His fingers felt tingly, the heat already seeping through him, the need to use his power to turn his father into ashes shooting adrenaline through him.

“Where do we find Zion?” he asked.

Vincent spoke. “The cave of black rock in the Black Forest. It’s his palace on Earth and the place where he killed our mother.”

Dante gave a clipped nod. “Then let’s go to the ‘Black Forest.”

Trees snapped and popped, branches hurling through the air at lightning speed as Dante drove his brothers around the mountain toward the Black Forest. The gray sky had grown darker, bleaker, the wind so ferocious that it bounced the SUV all over the road, and Dante had to fight to keep the vehicle in line.

“We can only go so far, then we’ll have to hike through the Black Forest,” Vincent said. “We’ll have to be prepared to battle the demons and spirits trapped in the Wasteland of the Lost Souls.”

An eighteen-wheeler skidded and careened out of control ahead of them, sliding toward the emergency exit ramp to avoid plunging over the mountain. Rain pelted the windshield, a wind tunnel swirling above as if another tornado was chasing them.

Dante glanced up and grimaced. “Get off my tail, Storm,” he muttered between clenched teeth. Anger railed through him at the thought that the men he’d once considered family were teaming up with Zion against him.

He speeded up, but the tornado, too, picked up speed, sucked up trees by the roots and tossed them through the air like tiny limbs. The forest on each side screamed with animals scurrying to take cover, and out of nowhere a flock of falcons dove as if to escape the charging storm.

Vincent pointed to the right. “Take that dirt road. It’s narrow, but it’s a short cut.”

A deer skidded across the road in front of him, and Dante braked and slid sideways to avoid hitting it, slowing slightly as he steered the vehicle onto the dirt road. He downshifted, gears grinding as the SUV bounced over gravel, potholes, and broken limbs.

“There’s a creek bed up ahead,” Vincent pointed out. “Hopefully the bridge is still intact.”

Dante accelerated, the giant oaks and pines creating a tunnel that shielded them from some of the downpour. But the tornado chased them, ripping a tree beside them from its roots and flinging it into the road in front of them. Dante slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop, the SUV’s front smashing into the giant oak with a bang.

“Dammit,” Dante snarled.

“Turn around and we’ll take another side road~” Vincent said.

His tires dug into the slushy, icy ground, flinging debris as he shifted into reverse and sped in the other direction. Another tree cracked and fell in a roar, then a row of pines snapped and toppled like dominos falling.

The earth trembled, the entire mountain shaking, and behind them, the ground divided, the earth literally separating, rocks and dirt collapsing into the sinkhole.

“What the fuck?” Quinton growled.

“He’s called out all the forces,” Dante said in a hiss.

“Hang a left up there,” Vincent said. “We’ll meet the river and follow it.”

But as they did, another roar sounded, and an avalanche began.

“It’s a goddamn landslide,” Vincent shouted.

Dante hit the gas and speeded up, dodging falling rocks, ice, and tree limbs as they crashed down around them.

Another giant tree flew toward them, and Vincent lifted his hands and used his power to shatter it. The tree exploded, limbs flying and raining down around them.

Dante swerved, then suddenly the sound of rushing water rent the air, as the swollen river began to rise and overflow the bank. An ancient, rusted steel bridge loomed ahead, their only way across the river. But the water was rising as if a dam had just burst. They weren’t going to make it.

“Shit,” he barked. “The bridge will be gone in seconds.”

“Speed up, “Quinton yelled. “I’ll hold it off.”

The water surged upward, nearly meeting the bridge bottom, the steel shaking with the force of the winds and trembling earth.

But Quinton focused, ground his teeth, narrowed his eyes, raised his hands to both sides, his body quivering he focused his power on holding off the flood.

Just as the SUV reached the opposite side, the rive rushed up and swallowed the bridge. Dante continued to fly, outrunning the raging flood as Quinton used his power to hold back the river until they had crossed.

Vincent lifted his hands and flung rocks down from the ridge to form a dam, leaving them on dry ground until they reached the end of the road.

Dante threw the SUV into Park, they grabbed their gear, gloves, and coats, and the three of them strode into the forest.

No one except Vincent had ever set foot in the forest and survived.

Would they make it this time?

They had to.

No light existed inside those woods, no life except for the demons left in the Wasteland of the Lost Souls. Poisonous man-eating plants, snakes, lizards, monsters, werecreatures, and evil spirits roamed the land, hungry and ready to pounce.

Dante clenched his hands into fists, trying to ignore the hideous screech of the monsters, the killer plants, the demons screaming and shouting that fresh food had entered their realm.

Vincent led the way, fending off snakes and flinging his hands like hatchets to tear away the clawing foliage that sucked at their feet and legs. Dante shot a fireball at a monster-faced demon and he exploded, brilliant orange flames lighting the darkness.

Evil eyes glowed ahead, around them, behind them, as if following them, and slimy, vile creatures would around their feet and ankles. Dante spewed fire at them and sent
 
them screeching for cover while Quinton used his power to ward off an attacking winged creature that swooped from above, its sharp talons bared and ready to pierce them with venom.

It seemed like hours that they hiked, fighting off the monsters and inhuman creatures. The suffocating heat and the foul stench of death and blood and carcasses grew stronger as they neared the cave of Black Rock.