Burning Dawn

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ELIN DID HER best impersonation of a Popsicle and froze. Red alert, red alert. The worst has happened.

Thane hadn’t sounded angry. He’d sounded desperate. Nothing like the man who’d kissed her so passionately in the elevator. Deep down, she knew this was far, far worse. As strong a warrior as he was, he wouldn’t be happy with the person who’d made him vulnerable.

“Let’s shelve this conversation until Muesday, May 32nd, at thirteen p.m.,” she said.

“Elin,” he snapped. “Answer.”

Panic choked her. If she admitted the truth, he really would send her away with the Phoenix, back to Orson. Once again, she would be forced to serve the people responsible for the deaths of her loved ones. Once again, her life goals would be placed on hold. Even if she no longer knew what those goals were. This—all of the sweetness and romance and wanton touches—would end. But she couldn’t lie. He’d know. Besides, she wasn’t going to play the part of coward any longer.

“I never hurt you,” she said, her tone soft. She had given him everything. Given—not cajoled, as Merrick had suggested. Because, the singer had it wrong. Not every victory was sweetest after a battle. Some victories were better as gifts.

He stiffened. Now anger oozed from him as he said, “Tell me you are part banshee, or even chimera. Shifter, vampire, Drakon. Cetea, gorgon. Minotaur. Hydra. Siren, laelaps, sphinx. Or any other of a thousand different races. Tell me!”

Tears burned the backs of her eyes. “I want to. I do. But I...can’t. I’m so sorry, Thane.”

He flung her off his lap, and as she stumbled to her hands and knees, he stood with lethal grace.

“You are Phoenix?” he demanded, practically spitting fire at her.

Won’t cower. Not this time. She popped to her feet, the glass shard she’d never thrown out now palmed and outstretched. At the ready. “Yes. I am.”

Accept it. Accept me. Don’t turn me into an outcast again.

More than that, she didn’t want to lose Playful Elevator Thane. Or even Protective Killer Thane. She’d tried to resist him. Not with a lot of effort, but still. She’d tried. And she’d failed. She hadn’t just added an amendment to her vow, she’d broken it, utterly shattered it, and there was no going back. Now, she wanted a chance to enjoy the results.

His eyes narrowed, and she was suddenly glad she couldn’t hear the thoughts tumbling through his mind. “You deceived me. You talked to me about yanking weeds, yet all along, you are a weed.”

Disappointment struck her. A sense of betrayal bloomed, accompanied by defensiveness. “I kept the truth to myself, and quite wisely, too. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to be staked. Can you really blame me?”

With a single, skilled swipe of his hand, he batted the glass out of her grip, leaving her weaponless. He advanced on her, saying, “Can you enslave, like Kendra?”

“No!” His electric gaze was as sharp as blades, mentally slashing her to ribbons. Still Elin held her ground. “And if I could, I never would. Her actions disgusted me.”

“You expect me to believe you?” he roared down at her. “You, the liar.”

“Yes, I absolutely expect you to believe me. You Sent Ones can taste lies, right? So you should know I’m telling the truth. Right?”

His scowl darkened. “You could be unaware that you’re poisoning me.”

“Kendra was always aware. She bragged about being able to control just how much her victims received. And if that’s not enough for you, think about this. My husband was never mindless, and I did him so good, over and over again.”

The jab only made him angrier. His chest brushed against hers, and she was horrified to note how tight her nipples became for him, eager for more contact. “You used me, helped me at camp so that I would help you.”

“Well, duh. I told you that already.”

“You never desired me. This whole time, you’ve been seducing me. To get what you want—money!”

Seducing him? For money? “First, what has that got to do with the Phoenix? Second, you are such a douche. I did want you. Did. Past tense. Your money was just a bonus. Money I earned, by the way. May I remind you that I refused payment for making out with you. And while we’re at it, may I remind you that I ran away from you before intercourse occurred and I didn’t come back begging for more? That was you.”

Thane raised his hand, as if he meant to strike her or grab her and shake her. Or grab her and haul her the rest of the way into his body and finish what he’d started in the elevator. Instead, he dropped it and backed away from her.

At the door, he turned, giving her his back. “I’ll return in an hour,” he said to his friends. “I want her gone.”

“Thane—” Xerxes said.

She’d forgotten about their audience.

“This isn’t a debate. Release the Phoenix. All but Kendra. When they leave my cloud, Elin goes with them.” He slammed into the hall, vanishing from view.

Elin remained in place, trying not to cry while panting with...relief. Yes. Relief. He hadn’t staked her or ordered it done. Also, he hadn’t banged her, but he’d definitely bailed. And, okay, it hurt just as much as she’d always known it would. Actually, it hurt worse. She wanted to curl into a ball and sob.

Thane had abandoned her.

Thane was disgusted by her.

Thane was giving her back to his enemy—to her enemy.

“I...I’ll go pack my things,” she said to no one in particular. And then I’ll run away before I can be escorted to the Phoenix. Surely she could pay someone in the city to fly her home.

Home. Where was home? She didn’t have one.

“I purchased every item with tip money,” she added, just in case they thought to deny her. “Tip money I earned fair and square. I won’t pack anything that isn’t mine.”

The red-eyed Sent One moved in front of her, blocking her path to the door. He was just as tall as Thane, just as muscled, but while Thane had once looked at her with tenderness, this one never had and didn’t start now.

I’m about to go swimming in a crap storm, aren’t I?

“I’m going to create a mental bond with you, female.”

Uh. What? “No, thanks.”

“Xerxes.” A frowning Bjorn sidled up to the warrior’s side. “He won’t like it.”

“Not at first.”

“Maybe not ever.”

“But one day, he’ll thank me for it.”

“Someone clue me in before I have a coronary,” she demanded. “What kind of mental bond? Why do you want it? What will it do to me? Not that it matters. My answer isn’t going to change.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not giving you a choice.” He flattened his hands against her temples, his fingers spearing through her hair. “I’ll be able to send my thoughts into your mind, and you’ll be able to send yours into mine. We can communicate without ever having to speak a word, no matter the distance between us.”

Too much to process. “No.”

“Yes. Creating this bond with non–Sent Ones is an ability only Thane, Bjorn and myself possess. A gift we received from the Most High after our time in the... Just after. This way, you can summon me if ever you get into trouble.”

“No,” she insisted.

“Consider it an honor. We’ve never done this for anyone else.”

“I don’t want to stay in contact with you.” Once she left the club, she would be gone for good. There would be no looking back. No wishing for what could have been.

“This is in your best interest,” he said, ignoring her protest.

She tried to wiggle from his grip, but he held steady. “Let me go, you winged behemoth, before I do something—” The rest of the sentence died in her mouth.

Jagged pain ripped through her, and she groaned. Was that a hammer slamming its way through her skull and cerebral cortex?

Light flashed across her mind, then scenes from her past played in Technicolor. Her mother, clutching her dead baby to her chest, gasping out, his name...Amil, means hope.... She’d given him a name when he’d never even taken a breath.

Her father’s head rolling past her, stopping. His dulled gaze peering at Elin as she trembled under the table.

Bay, falling, landing in a contorted heap in front of her.

“You’re so vulnerable...so open,” the warrior gritted. “At least try to block me from your memories.”

Try? How?

The Phoenix calling her hateful names, hurting her, degrading her. Peeling away her pride day by day.

She gritted her teeth and imagined shoving Xerxes away. It did no good. Her back bowed as pain, oh, the pain, consumed her. What she’d felt before? Nothing compared to this. A loud ringing erupted in her ears. A sheet of endless black fell over her eyes.

She was dying. She had to be dying.

Elin. Elin, sweetheart, you’re not dying. I need you to open your eyes.

No, the pain—

Is fading. I’ve left your mind.

Realizing he was correct, that the hammer had stopped pounding, she fluttered open her eyelids. Xerxes and Bjorn watched her with concern and curiosity—and now, Xerxes’s expression was heartbreakingly soft.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she spat, barely quelling the urge to slap him.

He sighed. “I give you my word. I will never again invade your thoughts without an invitation.”

“Good. Because I’ll be issuing an invitation in never!” She didn’t like his voice in her head. The words whispered through her, a wind she could feel in every cell. A foreign invasion. Unwelcome in every way.

“Very well,” he said. “But if ever you need me, simply think of me and project your words at the image. I will hear and I will find you.” He offered his hand, palm up. “Now, would you like to return to Arizona?”

“Without the Phoenix?”

“Without the Phoenix.”

“On my own?” she asked, just to be clear.

He nodded.

Her gaze swept through the suite, taking one last look at the luxury Thane enjoyed. Luxury she could have shared with him, if only his hatred hadn’t gotten in the way. Her heart hardened. “Yes. I’m ready.”

THANE DARTED THROUGH the evening sky at a furious, reckless pace. Wind slapped at him. His muscles burned. He welcomed the pain.

Elin was Phoenix. Half human, half soulless flame-eater. Sex with her could have enthralled him. Ruined him. He could have become mindless all over again.

Very few creatures possess the ability, and none who are weakened by human blood. You know this.

Didn’t matter. It wasn’t worth the risk. She affected him more than anyone else ever had, and had from minute one. She could be the exception.

Then why didn’t you taste a lie when she spoke about her husband?

Enough! He wanted to pluck out the rational part of his brain and watch it splatter on the surface of the earth. He didn’t like how out of control Elin made him feel—and hated that he actually yearned to spin out of control again. With her. Only with her. He didn’t want to remember that he’d felt only jealousy at her pointed mention of once sleeping with another man, followed closely by humiliation that he had once fallen prey to Kendra.

Elin knew his feelings about her race, and yet she still let him kiss her. Let him touch her. Bring her to climax twice—and even experience his own.

What, she was just supposed to confess and accept your rage as her due?

Another unwelcome observation. Another he ignored, plodding ahead with his ranting. She could have been planning to aid the Phoenix all along.

Please.

Why else would she refuse to give him the names of those who had hurt her? Because she hadn’t actually been hurt!

Or, because she despises the sight of blood, isn’t used to violence, and wanted to prevent more.

Thane rolled to the left to avoid hitting a flock of birds. What did he know about the girl, beyond any shadow of doubt?

She smelled of cherries. She tasted of them, too. She was soft to the touch and melted when he approached. Sometimes she looked at him with equal parts awe and apprehension. Sometimes she looked at him with insatiable hunger.

She had scars on her hands and back. Scars he should have kissed when he’d had the chance. She grew more beautiful every time he looked at her.

She had two different smiles. One she gave to the Downfall’s patrons. He’d been treated to it during his meeting with the Sent Ones. And then there was the one she’d given to him in the elevator. The first was sort of mechanical, definitely forced. The other was soft and sweet, loaded with promise.

What do you know about her, besides the physical?

She was a startling combination of attitude, kindness, and wit. Oh, was she amusing. Who else wanted to open a bakery when her culinary dishes tasted like cardboard—at best? Who else offered to go to first base so hard? Or teased him about playing games?

She’d missed Bellorie, a female who had caused her untold horror. She had found a demon’s screams too much to bear. She was merciful.

He remembered the hurt in her eyes after he’d pushed her off his lap. He remembered the way she’d bravely withstood his shouts of accusation, refusing to back down even though he could have ended her life with a flick of his wrist. She was sensitive, and she was brave.

She wasn’t going to survive with the Phoenix. Not this time. The warrior Orson—the one who’d had that twisted gleam in his eyes when he’d insisted the halfling be returned—wanted her for sinister purposes. He would break her.

He imagined Elin chained to the male’s bed. Her face battered and swollen, marked by tears. Her skin black-and-blue with bruises. He imagined her cries for help going unheeded—or worse, being met with laughter. He imagined her spirit broken, her sparkle forever extinguished.

The thoughts utterly shredded him.

He’d made a huge mistake, hadn’t he.

Elin wasn’t a weed. She was a rose. And one day, when he stood at the end of his life and looked back, he was going to regret his actions this day. More than anything else he’d ever done. He felt the knowledge in every cell in his body.

He didn’t bother slowing his momentum. He simply dived and twisted, heading back in the direction he’d come.

Keep Elin at the club, he projected to both Xerxes and Bjorn.

A tense pause razed his nerves. Then, I’m sorry, my friend, Xerxes said, but it’s too late for that.

Is she with the Phoenix? No. Please, no.

She isn’t. I dropped her off at her human home.

Thane’s fault. All his fault. She was alone, without any means of protection. But at least she wasn’t with the Phoenix. He was glad his friend had more sense than he. Where?

Xerxes rattled off the address. There’s something you should know.

More? Tell me.

You won’t like it.

He wouldn’t groan. Tell me anyway.

Very well. I...bonded with her. I can speak inside her mind, and she can speak into mine.

A violent wave of possessiveness surfaced, and he had to swallow a mouthful of threats. Only Thane should have the privilege. Even if he didn’t deserve it. Why?

I knew you’d want her back, and I wanted to keep a line of communication open.

Wise. But he should have been the one to do it. Foolish Thane. Thank you, my friend.

That’s not all. I saw into her memories, Thane. They’re bad. Really bad.

NIGHT HAD FINALLY FALLEN.

Elin nearly broke down when Xerxes deposited her on her parents’ old doorstep. The four-bedroom spread in the valley, with the gorgeous red mountains in the backyard, brought back the best—and worst—memories. She decided not to ask the new owners for a tour, and left.

She trudged four miles to the strip and pawned one of her bracelets. Though the diamond band was worth thousands, she only got five hundred. A hose job, but whatever. Because she was without any type of ID, she was unable to rent a car. Or rent a room. No one was gonna fall for the old “the dog ate it” excuse. But thanks to the daily paper she purchased from the convenience store across the road, she had been able to call people selling cars. Problem was, most of the sellers either hadn’t answered or had already sold their vehicles.

What was she going to do?

New life goal: come up with new life goals.

Without a coat, she was cold. Her shoulders ached from lugging around a ten-thousand-pound bag filled with clothes and jewels. Needing a quick rest, she leaned against a shadowed wall in the alley between two buildings crying out for major repair, and sipped the hot chocolate she’d purchased with the paper.

Maybe it was a good thing she was without any ID. The entire world might think she’d killed her father and Bay, and abducted her mother. Her name might come with media attention she couldn’t afford. Ugh. From now on, she was off grid. Anything to keep the Phoenix from finding her. Heck, anything to keep Thane from finding her.

As if he’d really look. Prejudiced winger! He had to go and ruin everything.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the shifting of certain shadows. Heart pounding, she turned to watch more intently. A moment passed. Then another. All remained still.

No. Not true. A snakelike creature peeked from behind a trash bin. She said snakelike because the thing had gnarled antlers rising from its head, and its fangs were so long they almost scraped the ground. As it opened its mouth to unfurl its forked tongue, she saw there was another set of teeth in back.

Elin straightened and backed away from it. Glowing red eyes followed her.

Another snakelike creature emerged from the shadows. Then another. And another. Each one focused on her, slithering closer.

What the heck were those things?

“The prince would like to ssspeak with you,” the one closest to her said. “Preferably alive.”

The others chortled.

Keep a cool head.

Use someone. Who? Xerxes? No. You’ve cut ties, remember? And there was no way she would throw innocents in the path of these...things.

She dropped her chocolate, and, as the liquid gushed out, she ran, her bag slamming against her side, slowing her down. Dang it. Money or escape? She couldn’t have both.

She released the handle and, without the weight, picked up speed.

Even still, the chortles pursued her...and closed in.