The Underworld (Rhyn Eternal) (22 page)

“Why?” she asked anxiously, heart flipping in her chest. “Is he that hurt?”

“Andre is giving out a Toughest Demon Award. I aim to win it.” Snatching a knife, he strode out of the cottage.

Perplexed, Deidre followed him with her gaze.

“There’s no such thing,” Andre said from behind her. “It was my attempt to keep the two of them focused on their mission here and not killing one another. Unfortunately, they took it a little too seriously.”

She turned, sighing with relief to see him alive. Karma’s hair was in tight, cheerful ringlets, her eyes green. Her features glowed.

“He’s balanced!” The deity all but shrieked.

“And you are a very young goddess,” Andre replied. “You’ll need to learn some self-control.”

Karma rolled her eyes at the brotherly tone.

“I’m glad you’re getting along,” Deidre said, amused.

Another tremble of the earth beneath her drew her attention to the wardrobe. She didn’t know how to handle any of the weapons on display there and wished she did.

“Are there enough people on our side to handle a giant?” she asked. “And where is Gabriel?”

“The forest sent him a different direction,” Andre explained. “The answer to your first question is no. We aren’t currently equipped to face ogres or the amount of death dealers allied with Harmony.”

“Is there a plan?”

“Not to get killed before Gabriel gets this situation under control.”

Worry for her mate made Deidre step out of the cabin. The earth tremors were getting stronger, the sounds of crashing trees closer. The giants came from the direction opposite of the palace, and she saw the loyal death dealers scrambling to form two fronts.

Dread sank into her stomach, heavier than ever. Fully sated after her meal, she nonetheless knew Darkyn had to be all the weaker for not having a chance to drink her blood. He was the most incredible fighter in the universe, but if he was truly cut off from his source of power and injured, he was also vulnerable to fatigue or being mortally wounded.

“Andre, you all need to be ready to move.” A death dealer ducked into the doorway behind her and called. “There’s no guarantee we can hold this position.”

“Understood.”

Deidre looked up at the dual moons of the underworld hovering far overhead. If she was able to fight so well when weak, what could she do now that she’d fed? The steady thrum of depravity was around her, waiting to be tapped into.

Cries of pain came from a short distance behind the cabin, and she whirled.

“Deidre, come with me,” Andre said calmly, joining her.

Karma, too, was transfixed by whatever was attacking from the rear.

“We need to move, ladies. There’s a rendezvous point in case we get separated. The Lake of Souls,” Andre said.

Deidre listened. Darkyn’s faint scent was in the air. He was somewhere near the attacking giants. The fact she as able to smell him so easily made her stomach churn. She’d been too hungry to assess the state of her mate, to understand exactly how injured he was.

“I have to go, Andre,” she said, starting forward.

“Deidre-”

“Take Karma. I’ll be fine.” This time, she knew it to be true. With a newfound confidence in her ability to take care of herself and a full stomach, Deidre didn’t think much of anyone was going to stand in her way of reaching Darkyn.

Andre’s words were lost as she broke into a run. Deidre raced towards the sound of fighting, adrenaline filling her ears with the sound of rushing wind while her fingernails grew. She battled the stubborn forest on her own, and then stumbled upon the path being used by death dealers headed towards the fight. The forest made way for them.

The closer she got, the more blood was in the air, a sign the battle was not going well. She sought out Darkyn’s scent, veering from the cleared path when the shifting winds brought his trail from a new direction.

Her pace slowed considerably as she fought the brush and trees, but she didn’t have to go far. The shadows of some great, ancient creatures soon fell over her, and she froze, staring ahead of her with fear.

“Holy hell,” she whispered, stricken.

The two giants were a head taller than the tallest of the trees, great, ugly creatures headed in the direction of the cottage. One swung a sword large enough to cut a path through the trees while the other wielded a club made out of stone.

Deidre considered turning back, until she caught the scent of Darkyn once more.

He’d come this far to save her. She wasn’t going to abandon him to face these … things alone.

Starting forward again, she soon reached an area where the giants had cleared of trees. Bodies and pieces of bodies littered the forest area and the battleground. Someone had started a tree on fire, and the writhing branches screamed, adding to the sounds of booming footsteps and shouts of death dealers.

She ducked down, searching the chaotic scene for her mate. Her nails were long, her mouth watering at the thought of drawing blood. A look up at the nearest of the two giants reminded her there was no way she’d be able to inflict any sort of damage on a monster that size.

The giants walked slowly, each step making the ground rumble and shake. She shifted to maintain her balance, uncertain how she’d find her mate in the mess.

Deidre bit her thumb and then held it up, letting the wind take the scent of her blood towards the battle. She crept forward and ducked, horrified to see a giant’s sword cleave the five new dealers on the scene in two the minute they stepped into the melee.

One of them dropped a torch, and fire spread slowly around the giant’s shoe. His bellow made her cover her ears with a wince.

“Deidre?”

It wasn’t Darkyn’s voice but Rhyn’s.

“You here?”

“Yes.” She stood carefully, balancing herself against a tree.

The large, half-demon left the cover of a thatch of bushes and ducked behind the tree beside her.

“You shouldn’t be,” he said.

“I came for Darkyn.”

“You plan on rescuing him?”

“Maybe,” she said archly.

“That right there disqualifies him.”

She rolled her eyes, recalling what Andre had said. He was a shrewd motivator, given the combative, competitive nature of the demons she’d met.

“You need to get the fuck out of here,” Rhyn said firmly.

“I’m not leaving. I know he’s hurt, and I know he needs to –”

“Ssssshhh. Get back and don’t move.” The half-demon had gone rigid, his back pressed to the tree.

Deidre sucked in a breath and stood still, peering through the branches of the tree she was behind to see what was going on.

The giant with the shoe on fire was kneeling, batting out the flames. His head was a little too close for her comfort, a mere ten feet away.

“When I say, run that way.” Rhyn pointed to the side of her opposite him.

“Run?” she echoed. “Won’t he come after me?”

“That’s the plan.” He whirled his sword and gripped it with two hands. “You’re bait.”

“Great.” She frowned, her nails digging into the tree.

“And Deidre?”

She looked over at him.

“When I say run, I mean run
fast.
Just in case.”

With a shake of her head, she straightened and readied herself to run. She sniffed the wind and was somewhat relieved to realize Darkyn was in the direction she would soon be headed. She’d seen him fight in the video tutorials his predecessor, Zamon, showed her in the library in Hell. Nothing in the universe was able to match Darkyn’s agility, cunning and lethality. If anyone could defeat a giant, it was him, assuming he had access to his magic or regeneration ability and wasn’t already severely injured. The reminder of all he’d given up to find her was disturbing. Even without his power, he was a formidable foe.

“Ready?” Rhyn hissed.

She swallowed hard and balanced herself.

“Now!”

Deidre darted and immediately toppled to the ground when the giant took a step. Scrambling up with a curse, she took off, leaping and slapping brush away, staggering each time the giant stepped.

Another pain-filled bellow split the air.

“Duck!” Rhyn shouted.

She dropped to the ground without hesitation, squeezing her eyes closed. The sound of metal smashed through trees not far above her head. Trees groaned and crashed to the ground, and she twisted to see behind her.

The giant had Rhyn’s sword sticking out of one eye and was pursuing somewhat clumsily, blood streaming down its skewed face. It crashed to its knees, and Deidre flinched, waiting for the trees it hadn’t chopped down to fall over.

“Plan B!” Rhyn grabbed her arms and hauled her up. “Run like fuck.” He pushed her in one direction then took off in another.

She ran hard, following the scent of Darkyn.

The giant stormed off after Rhyn, and she caught herself against a tree, pausing to catch her breath and assess her situation.

The other giant was under attack from a handful of death dealers and a familiar shape she’d know anywhere: Darkyn. He was moving effortlessly, striking at the monster’s tendons and the sensitive parts of his feet and legs, his daggers whirling too fast for her eyes to follow. He clambered up one leg as if gravity had no hold on him and slammed a sword deep into the giant’s thigh.

The monster bellowed, and Darkyn leapt to the ground, sword in hand. A thick rivulet of blood spurted out of the giant’s thigh, and she guessed he’d hit the main artery.

Teetering, the giant swung wildly at the surrounding forest with its club, taking out one death dealer and half a dozen trees.

The wind shifted, taking her scent towards her mate, and Darkyn signaled her back without turning, his focus between commanding the few death dealers willing to face the creature and the furious ogre.

Deidre saw the club move towards him in slow motion. A scream stuck in her throat. The massive stone club smashed into the back of the Dark One with a sickening crunch and threw him twenty feet into the air. As if one blow wasn’t enough, the ogre hit him again mid air, driving him straight into a tree.

She stared, not believing what she saw to be remotely possible.

Deidre stumbled forward, jarred back into the moment by the sound of her own scream. Oblivious to the dangerous battle so close to her, she darted across the cleared area to the still form of her mate.

“Darkyn!” she cried, dropping onto her knees beside him.

The scent of his blood was thick in the air, the sources too numerous for her to identify.

“Darkyn!” she said more softly, rolling him onto his back.

He was alive and growling. His skin was warm, and she wiped blood from his roughly hewn features. His chest appeared to be crushed, along with most of his body.

“Oh, god!” she gasped and bent over him, fluttering kisses over his bruised face. “You can heal. Feed and heal.” She sliced her wrist for him, placing it to his lips.

He twisted his head away.

“What’re you doing? Drink!” she insisted.

“Can’t heal fast enough … here.”

“Of course you can!”

He lifted an arm. Even with a bone protruding from it, he seemed oblivious – and determined. Gripping her neck, he pulled her face to his.

“Kill me,” he said, his lips brushing her ear.

Deidre stared, uncertain she’d heard right. She cupped his face gently with both her hands, desire and hunger spinning through her again. “Darkyn, you need to feed.”

“It’s too late for that. Kill me, quickly.”

Her eyes watered, and she shook her head. “It’s not too late. You just have to do it.”

“Love, if you don’t take Hell, that fucking giant will.”

Her brow furrowed.

“Whomever defeats the Dark One, the last to strike, the last to deal, takes his place,” he explained, rasping painfully.

“No, no, no!” she whispered frantically. “Darkyn-”

He squeezed her neck, silencing her. “Quickly. I am dying.” He pulled her to his neck. “Drink until I am dead.”

Deidre’s body shook, and tears blurred her vision. She pressed her mouth to his neck, unable to resist the intoxicating scent and taste that was him.

“I’m giving you Hell, love.”

“I don’t want Hell. I want you!”

“I know. This isn’t the end.” He was fading, his voice distant, his effort to fight his death clear. “You … remember what I taught you of … deals?”

“Y…yes.”

“Make it good.”

Deidre wanted to scream at him and demand how he was able to think of deals at a time like this.

“Take Hell,” he whispered again. This time, his strain was clear. “Quickly.”

Tears raced down her face, but she focused on obeying him, praying this was part of some great plan of his. He hadn’t won Hell after a lifetime to battle only to give it up. There was more; there always was with him.

“I love you, Darkyn,” she whispered in a choked voice. Deidre closed her eyes and bit him, sucking his thick nectar into her mouth.

This isn’t the end,
she repeated to herself over and over, taking some solace in the words.

She drank until his body went limp and the rattling of his breath stopped. Deidre withdrew and sat back.

“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered in a choked voice.

A cold breeze whipped by her, and she shivered. Lightning arced overhead, the explosion of its accompanying thunder making the ground rumble. Deidre instinctively moved closer to Darkyn, wanting to protect his broken body from further harm.

She rested her head on his chest and willed him to take another breath, to tell her this was some twisted joke of his. Her insides knotted and her heart felt as if it were shattering. Fresh pain pierced her hard enough to take her breath away.

This isn’t the end.
She breathed in his smell and wrapped her fist in his bloodied fist, comforted by the feel of his warm body beneath. “I don’t understand, Darkyn. What am I supposed to do?”
And why couldn’t you just tell me you cared about me?
Was it that hard? He lied for a living. Even if he wasn’t capable of true emotion, he could’ve said the words, for her sake.

Suddenly, her concerns about being in Hell for eternity, about losing the human side of her, no longer mattered. Holding her dead lover in her arms, she realized there was really only one thing that did, and he was gone, killed trying to save her from Harmony in a domain that wasn’t even his.