CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

ONCE AGAIN STRIDER SAT in the stands to watch his woman—wife!—compete. But the Roman Coliseum was a far cry from the bleachers in “Brew City,” Wisconsin. He’d been here a time or two, remembered the travertine, tufa, brick and marble, and had never thought to see such things again. Not in such pristine condition, at least. As if no time had passed, as if the ancient world had somehow blended into the present.

There were four floors. The first three boasted wide, arched entryways fit for nobility, and the fourth, the bottom, had rectangular doorways meant for the common man. Nets rose from the arena to protect the spectators.

And the arena itself, well, he remembered that, too. A wooden floor stained with the blood of thousands covered the entire area, but it was a floor that could be removed, the land then flooded with water to reenact navel battles. Oh, how the Romans had loved their games.

And how the Harpies loved their games. The combatants occupied one of the subterranean chambers, waiting to be summoned. Meanwhile, Juliette droned on and on about what was to happen. If ever there’d been a blah, blah, blah moment, this was it. He wanted to stab his own ears more now than when the twins had been singing.

“—toughest match yet,” she was saying now. “And with two competitions under our belts, this one might just identify a clear leader.”

We know. The teams would fight each other, all at once, with any weapon of their choosing. But they were only allowed one weapon each. They could, however, pick up discarded weapons as the fight progressed.

There would be ten combatants from each team. That was fine, whatever, except Kaia only had seven in her corner—counting herself. Which meant they all had to go in. If they wanted to go in. Big surprise, each of them had wanted, even though they were already at a disadvantage.

Around him, females were cheering. “Hit ’em hard, break their backs, that’s the way to show ’em what they lack!”

Kaia had nearly died mere days ago and though he’d kept her fed and medicated, she wasn’t yet at top strength. But he’d known better than to ask her to bow out. Her pride was important to her, and what was important to her was now important to him.

Even if that meant losing the Paring Rod.

He could always steal it from whoever won it.

Win.

Yeah, yeah. Defeat was on edge. Kaia was a part of them now. She was theirs, and Strider assumed her victory was as important to the demon as his own. He didn’t know if he would experience gut-wrenching pain if she lost. He hadn’t last time, despite the challenge he’d accepted to protect her from other Harpies—and he figured that was because there was a fine line between protecting and punishing to a demon and he could still do the punishing—but then, they hadn’t been married last time. He prayed he did not learn differently today. Actually, he knew he wouldn’t. She wouldn’t lose. Despite her continued weakness, despite the fact that every single member of every single team was going to turn on her first, she had this one in the bag.

Not five minutes ago, he’d held her in his arms, hugging her tight before she abandoned him here.

“Any tips for winning?” she’d asked.

“Yeah. Do what you gotta do to survive.”

“That’s it? Wow. You suck at pep talks.”

He’d gripped her shoulders and peered down at her. “All right, how about this? You’re so emotionally invested in this, you let those emotions color your every move. Normally I’d say that’s dumb, but I like my balls where they are. That’s why I’ll just tell you that you can’t turn your feelings off, but you can use them.”

“How?” she’d gritted out.

“Well, part of you loves the women you’re up against, no matter how badly they’ve treated you, and you can’t deny it.”

She didn’t try.

He continued, “You have to remember that, despite the love you feel, they’ll turn on you in an instant.”

“Okay.”

“Also, you’re easily distracted and—”

“There’s more?”

“Listen. While you’re down there, don’t think about me. Don’t think about what I’m doing or whether I’m okay.”

She snapped her teeth at him. “You’ll be looking for the Paring Rod. How can I not—”

“Don’t think about what I’m doing. Okay? That includes right now, this moment.”

A stiff nod.

“Also, if you don’t defeat them, Kaia, I’m going to kill them far more cruelly than you would have. Defeat issued a challenge to protect you from other Harpies before I came here, but this one is all me.”

Her jaw dropped.

“There. Now you’re properly motivated to do what needs doing. So go kick some ass.”

Beside him, Sabin and Lysander shifted restlessly, bringing him back to the present. Zacharel hadn’t yet made an appearance.

“I hate this Gladiator shit,” Sabin muttered.

“Yes, well, where do you think the Romans learned this kind of behavior?” the angel asked.

Sabin sputtered for a minute. “You’re trying to tell me Harpies are responsible for this? That the Romans learned from them?”

“I must try only if you’re lacking intelligence.”

Sabin opened his mouth to snap a reply, but a trumpet blew, signaling the start of the third game, and the crowd quieted. A second later, several of the iron doors groaned and creaked as they were raised. The combatants spilled out, sprinting into the arena.

Strider straightened, focused. Several more iron doors opened. Lions, tigers and bears—oh, my—joined the race. All were agitated, their mouths foaming.

He searched…searched…there. A glimpse of that bright red hair, bound tight in a ponytail. Kaia wore scarlet, like the rest of her team. Unlike the others, she did not clutch a weapon. He frowned.

The women at last reached the middle of the grounds, and without pause, the match began in a tangle of teeth, claws and metal. Grunts and shrieks instantly abounded. Blood sprayed.

Damn it, Kaia, he cursed as realization set in. She was going to use her fire—her new, as yet untested fire—and she hadn’t wanted anyone to accuse her of using two weapons.

If she burned a fellow Harpy to death, she would hate herself afterward. Or worse, if she couldn’t summon the fire, they would kill her and he would hate them, punish them, destroy them as promised. For him, though, for the Rod, she’d decided to risk it. Damn her!

He’d thought he’d motivated her to victory. He’d merely incited her to craziness.

“What the hell is she doing bare-handed?” Sabin asked conversationally. “Even Gwen has a weapon.”

He didn’t answer, couldn’t. There was a knot in his throat, cutting off sound, air. The other teams turned on her, just as he’d expected. What he hadn’t—the animals charged her as if she wore a bull’s-eye and he could guess why. Someone had worked them into a frenzy using Kaia’s scent.

Which they’d most likely gotten from her stolen coat.

Strider was on his feet and shoving his way through the crowd in seconds. Until something hard slammed into his back, knocking him down. There wasn’t time to catch himself. His forehead hit rock, a sharp pain exploding through his head. Oxygen abandoned his lungs. His vision blurred.

Nothing stopped him from bucking off the weight and standing, running forward, not caring to look behind him to see who’d tried to stop him.

Win…her, Defeat said.

Yes. I’ll win her, save her. I will.

Through a haze, he zeroed in on Kaia. She was darting around the arena, throwing her competition at the frothing animals. The beasts were all too happy to tear into their new toys as they followed her.

The hard weight slammed into him a second time, tossing him back on the ground like a rag doll. Roaring, Strider swung around, intending to do a little killing before he resumed his journey.

Win. A new challenge.

Yes, he thought again. I’ll win this one, too.

“Your woman will be disqualified if you aid her.” Lazarus unfurled from him and stood. He was weaponless, shirtless, pants unfastened and clearly hastily tugged on. The dark chain tattooed around his neck was pulsing, slithering around his neck like a snake, the inky links actually clanking together.

Strider stood and took stock. “I’d rather she were disqualified than killed. Now, then. You and I have a bit of business to attend to before I go.”

Lazarus quirked a brow. “Good luck with that.”

Win.

On it. Eyes narrowing, he stalked forward—only to stop when he saw Sabin and Lysander barreling toward him, calling his name. They were looking at him, but not actually seeing him. In fact, they raced through him before he could jump out of the way.

Shocked, he peered down at himself. They had run through him as if he were no more substantial than mist.

“No one can see us,” Lazarus said easily. “Not even the angels.”

Red dotted his vision. “What did you do to me?”

Boos and hisses from the crowd had him swinging around and peering below. The combatants had thinned out somewhat, but most of Team Kaia still fought. Including Kaia herself.

She was coated with blood and he wasn’t sure if it came from her or the others, but her movements hadn’t slowed. She was still throwing punches, kicking and flinging females at the—no, not the animals. At Bianka, who finished them off with a long, curved blade. The animals were now fully fed and satisfied, sitting off to the side and watching the rest of the battle through slumberous eyes.

The panic inside him eased. Kaia hadn’t resorted to fire. Or maybe, as he’d supposed, she didn’t know how to summon it. But either way, she was kicking ass and taking names. Even better, the teams were no longer able to converge on her en masse. She moved through them too quickly.

“I only have a few moments,” Lazarus said, now at his side. “If Juliette notices I’m gone…”

Win.

Reminded of the challenge that had been accepted, Strider said, “I’m sorry, but I have to do this.” Lightning fast, he threw his own punch, knuckles crunching into the warrior’s nose. Cartilage snapped. Blood leaked from his nostrils.

Defeat sighed with satisfaction, pouring pleasure through his veins.

Lazarus straightened and wiped the crimson away with the back of his wrist. “I doubt I will be the first person to tell you how annoying you are.”

“You might be the thousandth.” He walked the rest of the way through the balcony, until he was poised over the edge. The warrior followed him, returning to his side. “So how are we here but not here?”

“Juliette has been forced to grant me more and more powers in order to see these games through as she wishes.”

“She can give you powers? Just like that?” He snapped his fingers.

A stiff nod.

“Like what?”

“The ability to cast illusions no being can penetrate.” Another nod, and their surroundings changed in an instant.

Strider blinked, one moment seeing the stands as they’d once been, the next seeing them as they were: crumbling, eroded by time and harsh elements. Not to mention the humans touring through the designated sections, snapping pictures. Then, after another blink, the stands were brand-new again.

“Plus the ability to hide our immortal world from the mortal one?” Strider asked.

“Yes. That, too.”

“And you’re sharing this with me because…”’ Cause yeah, Strider knew damn good and well this could be a trick. That the bastard could mean to lull him into a false sense of security before striking. Hell, as distracted as he was, Lazarus could attack him at any moment without much resistance.

“I am a slave and I no longer wish to be.”

He could dig, but… “I don’t trust you. I’m not going to trust you.” He watched as Kaia and Bianka clasped hands. Bianka swung her around, Kaia’s legs slamming into the three females gunning for her. When her twin released her, she went flying like a bowling ball, knocking others down like pins.

What a woman.

He had a present for her and it was burning a hole in his pocket. Why hadn’t he given it to her yet? He didn’t know. Wasn’t sure she’d like it. Was kind of embarrassed that he had it. To be honest, it was ugly as hell, and it proved how much of a pansy he’d become since meeting her.

For that alone, she’d love it, he thought, grinning.

“What?” Lazarus demanded.

“Kaia,” was all he said.

“Yes, she’s strong. She’s also honorable, in her way. You have no idea how I envy you.”

“As long as that’s all you do, you’ll be fine. Maybe.”

“Which brings us back to the reason we are here. I do not need you to trust me,” Lazarus said, his tone all the more urgent. “I need you to listen. Do you know what the Paring Rod can do?”

That captured his attention completely. He gripped the balcony rail tightly, knuckles leaching of color. “Tell me.”

“The Rod steals from the living. Their souls, their abilities, their life forces, whatever. It strips a body of everything, trapping what it steals inside itself.”

“Paring it down to nothing but a shell,” Strider croaked as comprehension dawned. That made sense. Scary, scary sense.

“Yes. But when you wield the Rod, you cannot take the powers inside yourself. You have to give them to another. Or, if you want them yourself, you have to entrust the Rod to someone else and have that person grant you the powers.”

“And Juliette has done that for you. Granted you powers.” Like the illusion thing he’d mentioned.

“Yes,” the warrior repeated. “Nothing that matters, nothing that could hurt her, just little things that I am to use to impress her sisters.”

“How do these powers impress them?”

“You have to ask?” Offense layered the big man’s voice. “Never have the games been held in such exotic locales.”

“Like I’d know. I’ve never been to the games before.”

Lazarus huffed. “Your ignorance is forgiven, then. Barely.”

“Thanks,” he replied dryly. “I feel so much better.”

“As I said—annoying.”

“So how did Juliette get her hands on the Rod?”

“Like the rest of her race, she is a mercenary. She will do anything if the price is right, and Cronus’s wife used that information to her advantage. She knew Juliette had been searching for me for many centuries. And she, in turn, had been searching for a way to secure the Paring Rod for herself and her Hunters. That’s why, a few months ago, the queen promised to hand me over if Juliette could steal the Rod from my mother, the Gorgon tasked with its protection. Juliette jumped at the chance.

“But greedy witch that she is, when she learned exactly what the Rod could do, she decided she wanted it and me. So she killed my mother, intending to have a replica of the Rod made and trade the fake for me. But Rhea and most of her army disappeared just before their meeting, allowing Juliette to simply grab me out of my cell, no trade necessary. No resistance.”

“Why were you locked away?”

There was a flicker of shame in his eyes. “Hera, the former god queen, enjoyed keeping a menagerie of males. I had heard my father, who was made to sleep the sleep of the dead, was kept there, and so I allowed my own capture in the hopes that I could somehow rescue him. But I never found him, and then I could not escape.”

The sleep of the dead. That meant Typhon was alive, aware, but unable to rise from his bed. So that was what had happened to the creature. “I’m sorry,” Strider found himself saying. He had his own sob stories, but nothing compared to Lazarus’s suffering.

He had known that the Paring Rod would be destructive in the wrong hands, but he hadn’t known how dangerous it could truly be. And now he also knew why the Hunters had sought out Kaia and her sisters. With Rhea’s disappearance, Juliette had taken more than the Paring Rod; she taken control of the Hunters. “What happened to Galen, Rhea’s right-hand man?” Surely he would have something to say about that.

“Galen is the keeper of Hope?” At Strider’s nod, he said, “The warrior took off just before Juliette’s arrival. I’m not sure about his destination.”

So. Galen was out there. Somewhere. “And where is the Rod now?”

“I have it.”

In a whirl of determined movement, Strider faced him. The warrior’s earlier urgency finally infected him. “Where is it?”

Lazarus looked bored. “I now have the ability to hide objects in the space around me. It is here. Here.”

Eyes wide, Strider glanced around him, then patted the air around the warrior’s shoulders. He encountered only body heat, but he knew. It was here. So close he’d probably brushed against it during their conversation. His heart hammered against his ribs.

“Give it to me. Now,” he said. Then he recalled what Kaia had said to him, not so long ago, and he paused.

If he stole the Rod, she would be humiliated in front of her people. Except, while she’d been passed out and sick, writhing in pain from her injuries, she had babbled about stealing it herself. So he suspected she’d been planning to do so. For him. He should walk away—for her—but he couldn’t. Too many lives were at stake. He would find a way to make it up to her, he told himself. He would.

Black eyes became flat. “I…can’t.”

“Like hell. Pull it out of the goddamn air. Like you did that first night, during orientation.”

“I can’t,” Lazarus repeated.

“Why?” His voice lashed like lightning.

“Part of my soul is trapped inside the Rod. Physically I cannot do anything Juliette has forbidden me to do. I just can’t, no matter how hard I try. Believe me, I have tried. That is the only reason she entrusted me with the Rod’s care. And so I am to die before I allow the Rod to be taken from me.”

Strider withdrew a dagger from his ankle sheath. “I don’t want to fight you.”

A stubborn chin rose, reminding him of Kaia. “And I do not wish to fight you. I have considered this so many times I’ve lost count, and always the solution is the same. Juliette controls the Rod, and therefore controls me. She will never willingly part with either. I am her consort, and as I am sure you have learned, the Harpies do whatever is necessary to keep their consorts by their sides. Even if the impossible occurred and I managed to escape her a second time, she would never cease searching for me. I have decided I would rather die than help her in any way. I would rather die than make her happy. A decision you should support, since she wants me to seduce and hurt your woman.”

Dude was so not doing the seduction/hurting thing. “Just to be clear. You’re saying…”

“I am saying I have been used as a sex slave before. I will not be so used again. I am saying your woman once set me free, and I hurt her for it. I will not hurt her again. I am saying Juliette killed my mother. Now I will kill her dreams.”

Shock pounded through him. “You—”

“Want you to slay me. Yes. More than destroying Juliette, I cannot live as a slave any longer. I’ve spent too many centuries inside a cell, and now I’m supposed to while away the rest of eternity with a woman I despise? No! I crave freedom, even if I can find it only in death.” Lazarus dropped to his knees and tilted his head to the side, exposing the length of his vulnerable neck. “Do it. Before I change my mind.”

In that moment Strider realized he had never admired a being more. Self-sacrifice had never been a big part of his life, but here was Lazarus, giving up everything. Not for love, but for revenge, and that motive was a hell of a lot better.

If anyone deserved a second chance to live a long and happy life, he thought suddenly, it was this man.

Strider had done a lot of despicable things in the name of victory, done even worse as a consequence of the war with the Hunters, but this—putting a good man down—would top them all. In another life, they might have been friends.

“Death doesn’t have to be the end,” he said to make himself feel better.

He saw a spark of regret in the other man’s expression. “For me it will be. Much like you Lords would be incomplete without your demons, I am incomplete without the part of my soul that is trapped inside the Rod. When I die, the best I can hope for is that that part of me will wither and die, as well. As I’ve been led to understand, it is improbable to hope for the two pieces of my soul to unite and journey to heaven.”

“So basically what you’re saying is that you don’t know what will happen to you?”

A blink of bafflement. “Is that what you need to believe to do this deed? That there’s a chance for me to be happy in the afterlife? Because I must admit I am confused by your reluctance to end my life. I expected more from a fearsome Lord of the Underworld. Don’t make me challenge you for this, Lord of Defeat. Just do it. Set me free.”

He raised the blade higher, watched that pulse batter. His wrist twitched, but he remained exactly as he was.

Damn it. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t end this creature forever.

Lazarus must have sensed his waning determination. “Should I live, I will find a way to get your woman into my bed. Should Juliette live, she will kill your woman when I’m done with her. And that is only if she’s feeling generous, which she never is.

“The plan now, as I know it, is to finish the games, humiliating your woman with her many failures. And then, when she tires of the ridicule, Juliette will take Kaia’s free will, just as she has done to me. Kaia will be unable to stop herself from joining the Hunters under Juliette’s command. Oh, did I not tell you that part? Juliette will force Kaia to destroy you and all that you love. Do you understand what that means? You will be at war with your woman.”

Just like that, the decision to act solidified. Not because Kaia would come after him, but simply because Kaia’s happiness was everything to him, and she, too, deserved a second chance.

He would not let Juliette humiliate her. He would not let the bitch play with her mind, her emotions. And allowing Juliette to further screw with Lazarus, a guy who was noble enough to jump ship to save someone else? A guy who’d been hurt enough? Not going to happen.

“Thank you for your sacrifice. It will not be in vain. Juliette will be punished,” he vowed. “You have my word.”

“Thank you…friend.”

Strider struck.

CHAPTER THIRTY

A few minutes earlier…

HER TEAM MIGHT HAVE STARTED out at a disadvantage, Kaia thought, panting from exertion, but they’d certainly evened the odds. And quickly, too. Right now, only members of the Eagleshields and Skyhawks were still conscious.

At first, insults had been hurled at her. “Weak.” “Stupid.” “Bitch.” For once, they hadn’t distracted her. Maybe because she’d been locked on a single thought: save Strider from pain.

The man who hated being challenged had challenged himself. For her. If she’d harbored any doubts about his love, that would have convinced her.

She had to win this. For him. He’d threatened to kill anyone she did not defeat, but she knew he wouldn’t follow through with that one. He loved her too much to hurt a member of her race. So, if she failed, and then he failed to deliver punishment, would he experience twice the pain?

Win, win, win.

Oh, yes. Her strategy? Beat and run. She hadn’t let herself engage a single person. Well, no longer than it took to punch once—okay, sometimes twice. She’d struck, and then she’d moved on, never allowing herself to be surrounded. When more than one Harpy had converged on her, she’d simply moved out of the way and let them slam into each other. That had, of course, sent them into a fight of their own, effectively doing the work for her.

Their determination to end her, and her alone, was going to be their downfall. Fitting, she mused, swinging around to face her next opponent. When she spotted the Harpy, her anticipation withered.

Her mother.

Kaia’s throat dried. For the first time this round, sparks of heat lit up inside her. She’d been so careful.

Tabitha dropped the motionless body she held by the hair and faced off with her forgotten daughter. Around them, the battle continued to rage. Bianka noticed what was happening, though, and alerted the others. Soon Team Kaia was moving the rest of the females outward, giving Kaia and her mom a wide berth.

“At long last, the daughter I once spent an entire morning praising, telling my competitors that you would one day be stronger even than me, only to find you’d nearly ruined us all,” Tabitha said. Her anticipation was palpable. “Finally you will be punished for that. I will put you in your place for the humiliation you caused.”

She’d spent an entire morning praising Kaia? Had claimed Kaia would be stronger? Don’t soften. That’s what she wants.

“And where is my place?” She had to be cold. This fight was necessary, and centuries in the making. Use might, not fire.

One seemingly delicate shoulder lifted in a shrug. “At my feet. Of course.”

At one time, that would have destroyed Kaia. Today, however, she experienced only the mildest twinge. She was loved, and by a man who didn’t love easily. He considered her worthy. That was enough. “You can try.”

“Oh, I’ll do more than that.”

Talk, talk, talk. Kaia waved her fingers, the fire beaten back. “We just gonna stand here or are we gonna do this?”

Surprisingly, Tabitha remained where she stood and arched a dark brow. “I’ll give you five seconds to run away, a chance I’ve never offered another. For old time’s sake, you could say. And Kaia, that’s the only handicap I’ll give you. After that, I will take your head.” She tossed a dagger in the air. A dagger already coated with blood.

“One,” Kaia said.

If she wasn’t mistaken—and she had to be mistaken—pride flickered in her mother’s amber eyes. “You’re weaponless. Do you really expect to win?”

“Two.”

Another flicker. “Trying to impress your man? Too bad he’s not up there. He disappeared several minutes ago.”

No reaction. She wouldn’t fall for such tactics. Wouldn’t be distracted from her purpose. “Three.”

The corners of Tabitha’s mouth quirked. “Do you recall when you were a girl and I spent hours training with you? I had you laid flat every time.”

No damn reaction. “Four.”

“All right. No more conversation.” Tabitha threw her gaze at the crowd. “No one is to interrupt us. Is that clear?” With that, she assumed a battle stance, her legs apart, her knees bent and her arms at the ready. “It’s just you and me now, daughter.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Five.”

They flew at each other.

Tabitha hadn’t earned the name “Vicious” for nothing, and slashed at Kaia the moment they were within striking distance. They were too close for her to avoid being hit and Kaia knew it, cursing herself for expecting her mother to try and get her on the ground first. So she did the only thing she could. She lifted her arms, allowing the blade to slash at her forearms rather than her neck or her chest. As the sharp pain tore through her, skin splitting open, her mother struck again, lightning fast, aiming for her stomach this time.

Kaia counterattacked. She caught Tabitha’s hand midway, gripping her wrist in her elbow and twisting up, using the momentum to her advantage. When their arms reached shoulder level, she pressed Tabitha’s wrist and the blade against herself and punched her mother in the temple with her free hand. She could have used the flat of her other hand to bat at the dagger and send it flying, but better to strike now, while she had the chance, than to remove the weapon from her mother’s possession.

Why fight as if they had forever when she could do something to end things now?

Tabitha stumbled from the impact and dizzily dropped to her knees. Of course, she regained her footing in the few seconds it took Kaia to close the distance between them. Before she could strike, Tabitha spun, avoiding contact. Then, within a blink, Kaia was struck from behind. In the skull. She staggered, thinking fast. Knowing her mother as she did, she was sure the woman would fly at her, try to push her to the ground, cutting her neck while her weight smashed her wings. Only one way to combat that. Kaia used those staggering steps to push off and back flip.

Below her, for less than a blink, she saw the top of Tabitha’s dark head. Saw that she’d been right. Saw Tabitha stop, realizing she wouldn’t be winning so easily. Then Kaia landed and kicked out, aiming for her mother’s kidney. Score.

Grunting, Tabitha fell to her knees. Kaia kicked again—no mercy—aiming for those fluttering wings. Boom. Her mother’s body was flung forward, the cartilage in the right wing snapping on impact. Again, the entire action happened so quickly, anyone watching would have missed it if they’d blinked.

That should have slowed her mother down, but Tabitha had about a million years on her and had fought with a broken wing before. Seemingly impervious to the pain she must be feeling, the woman rolled, stood, turned.

“That all you got, baby?” Tabitha was smiling, but there was blood on her teeth.

Cold. Merciless. “Let’s find out.”

Once again they launched at each other, meeting in the middle. There was a flurry of punching and blocking. Cold, stay cold. With every shot of her mother’s left arm, the dagger she held made a play for Kaia’s jugular. Kaia was nicked a few times, but the blade never sank deep enough to do much damage. And that wasn’t because her mother pulled her blows! Kaia had skills even she hadn’t known about.

Tabitha currently had the lead, pushing Kaia backward. She held her own—cold, cold, so cold, tamping down any new flickers of heat that tried to spring from her—until she tripped over an unconscious body. Down, down she fell. Tabitha was on her in an instant.

When the dagger arced toward her, she knew there was only one way to save her neck. And her life. That dagger needed a target. She met the metal with the palm of her hand, allowing the tip to spear her flesh all the way through, going in one side and coming out the other. Hurt like a son of a bitch, but it was totally worth it. Even though her bone was splintered, the dagger was stuck between the pieces and Tabitha drew back an empty hand.

That didn’t stop her. Fist after fist battered at Kaia’s face so swiftly she couldn’t avoid them and she was almost knocked senseless. Still she remained cold and finally gathered the strength to roll backward, to her shoulder blades, scooting her mother off her stomach and allowing Kaia to swing her legs.

She locked her ankles around Tabitha’s neck and jerked down. The woman fell to her back and lost a lungful of oxygen. Or would have, if Kaia hadn’t jammed the heels of her boots into her mother’s throat, crushing her wind-pipe and preventing the air from escaping.

Without a pause, Kaia stood, her field of vision shit as blood dripped into her swollen eyes. End this. With all of her might, she jerked the dagger from her palm—and damn, it hurt worse coming out than going in!—then tossed the weapon out of the circle. Now they were both unarmed.

She stalked forward, hoping she would be on her mother before the practiced soldier had time to heal or strategize. That didn’t work out for her. Tabitha was on her feet in an instant and they were facing off for the third time, circling each other.

“Bravo for you,” Tabitha rasped, voice broken thanks to her still-healing trachea. “I expected you to fold long before now.”

“That’s because you think too highly of yourself and too little of those around you.”

“With good reason.” Emotionless.

I will make her feel something. Kaia licked her lips, tasted copper. “Mother of the Year Award, meet Tabitha the Vicious. Or not. But don’t feel bad. I took Father’s away, too.”

Tabitha stilled, blinking, those lids hiding and revealing distress. “I’m a good mother.”

Uh, what? That had struck a nerve? “If by good you mean you’re the world’s worst, then yeah, you’re at the top of the list.”

Amber eyes narrowed, the distress vanishing. “When you’re dead, another Harpy will take possession of your man. You know that, don’t you? And as your conqueror, I’ll have first rights.”

Ouch. Going for the jugular with words now, too, trying to elicit an emotional response. As Strider had said, Kaia was all about her emotions. She could feel the fire springing back to life inside her, heating…heating…

She could release the flames, end things now. They’d fought. There’d be no crying foul now. Kaia had held her own, but though there was no love lost between mother and daughter, she didn’t want to burn the woman to death.

What she wanted didn’t matter, however. Not now. Do what you gotta do to survive, Strider had told her.

It was time.

Finally she opened her mind to the heat, welcoming it, letting it grow, spread—consume.

Hotter…hotter… She didn’t know what to expect. Last time, the change had come over her so unexpectedly, she hadn’t had a second to stop and think about what was happening. What would she do if the flames refused to come?

Shock clouded her mother’s expression. There was a roar in Kaia’s ears, her body hotter, hotter, then all she could see was a cerulean haze. In less than a heartbeat, the flames had coiled from her pores, catching every inch of her in a raging inferno. Even her clothes burned away.

“Sorry about this, Mom,” she said. She leapt, closing the distance between them. Contact. They fell to the ground. Flames jumped from Kaia to Tabitha. She paused, waiting.

Where were her mother’s screams?

“You really think I would have slept with a Phoenix if I wasn’t protected against his fire? But I’m impressed. You fooled me. I had no idea you were capable of this.”

“I—I—” Had no response. Was too stunned.

Tabitha went on, “I can’t summon the flames, but I can withstand them. So, fight on.”

Once again Kaia was rolled to her back and punched over and over again. This she allowed, more from her own sense of astonishment than an inability to fend her mother off.

When her senses crystallized back into focus, she stopped trying to protect her face and neck. There was only one way to end this.

The punches continued to descend. As sharp pain exploded through her, her eyesight soon obliterated, her throat soon crushed—and knowing claws were coming next, and with them, the loss of her head—the heat was replaced by a return of her cold determination.

Do whatever it takes.

Kaia arched up, still taking the blows. Her mother suspected nothing, too lost in the rhythm of her fists, expecting Kaia to slip into unconsciousness at any moment. Kaia reached around her mother’s back and ripped. A shriek echoed through the air as warm blood coated her hands. Those fists finally stopped raining. The weight lifted from her shoulders.

Kaia brought her hands to her mouth and licked. Anything to survive, she told herself again. Blood, any blood, was medicine and she needed to heal. Her mother’s life force slid down her decimated throat and into her stomach. The effect wasn’t as powerful as when she drank from Strider, but her vision cleared somewhat and she sat up the rest of the way.

Her mother lay a few feet away from her, unconscious and naked from the blaze. She might have withstood a broken wing, but she couldn’t withstand a total loss of them. Her back was a mess, her wings completely gone. Kaia’s chest constricted. In sorrow that their feud had come to this, in pride that she had won.

She considered her surroundings. The rest of the fight had ended, as well. To her disappointment, she saw that the Eagleshields had defeated her sisters, who had in turn defeated the Skyhawks. Those who were still standing regarded her with stunned expressions. She only cared about her team.

Thankfully, every beloved member was alive. Held at bay by sword-point, but alive. One at a time, she met each of their gazes. They nodded in apology and appreciation. She didn’t care that they’d lost—only that they lived.

They would have a chance at vindication during the next competition. And perhaps she could have validation now. Unconcerned by her nakedness, she lumbered to her feet. No matter what happened next, there were now only three contenders for first place in round four. And whoever won there would win everything. Bragging rights and the Paring Rod.

Had Strider realized how close they were to ultimate victory?

Strider. Her sisters might be alive, but she had lost. By defeating her team, the Eagleshields had defeated her. Strider had just lost his own challenge.

No, she assured herself in the next instant. He’d only sworn to kill those who defeated her. Or was it hurt her? Either way, there’d been no time limit for his death-blow deliveries. Right?

She searched the cheering crowd, but caught no sight of him. There were Sabin and Lysander, who’d disappeared for a while, too, but had now returned. Both were tense, pale and agitated, clearly wanting to grab their women and leave.

Was Strider okay? Where had he gone?

Was he currently in pain?

She could have challenged the Eagleshields and continued the fight. But she couldn’t disable all of them at the same time. One of her team members would be harmed, maybe killed. So she had to decide. Save them, or save Strider agonizing pain.

Praying he would understand, she knelt, admitting defeat.

Three things happened at once. Their surroundings changed, the Coliseum no longer new and fresh but old and crumbling, man-made blockades and humans suddenly materializing around them. Juliette’s scream of rage and disbelief echoed from the walls. And, worst of all, Strider’s agonized shout cut through her soul.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

ABSOLUTE, UTTER CHAOS surrounded him.

Winded, stricken to his knees by debilitating pain, Strider gripped the Paring Rod. Harpies, consorts and slaves raced in every direction, trying to get away before the cops arrived. And they would, bringing reporters with them. Countless laws had been broken and a national treasure desecrated. Even now, blood soaked the ground, pooling around Strider’s feet.

What the hell should he do? And why was his demon so agonized, moaning and writhing inside his head? They’d won. Hadn’t they?

The moment Lazarus lost his head, the artifact had appeared. Something shimmery had risen from his body and been sucked into the tip of the Rod as if a vacuum switch had been thrown. The warrior’s soul, probably, the rest joining the piece inside.

No longer able to hold the illusion, the world had returned to normal. Strider hadn’t thought of that little complication, and therefore hadn’t prepared for it. Had only considered at last acquiring the Rod. Now he had it, but few options for successfully hiding it.

Juliette knew her man was dead, knew he wouldn’t have disobeyed her otherwise. That scream… She would be searching for the body. Would learn who was responsible. There’d be no covering up the truth. Not now. Too many people had seen Strider hovering over the lifeless body, a bloody sword in hand. Not that he would have tried to cover up the truth. He’d done the crime, the consequences his to bear.

Now, though, he’d brought evil to Kaia’s door. Juliette would no longer be content to humiliate her. Juliette would want to punish her. Hurt her. Destroy her.

The truth struck him and he wanted to vomit. What the hell had he done?

Strider lumbered to his feet, his head swimming. He swayed, comprehension a bitch slap of truth. He had challenged Kaia to win the game; she must have lost. Shit. Shit! Was she okay?

Someone slammed into him and he stumbled, his pain intensifying. His grip tightened on the Rod. He had to keep it safe; he also had to reach Kaia. Sabin and Lysander were probably looking for their women, so they would be no help.

With his free hand, Strider jerked his cell phone out of his pocket. He needed Lucien.

His vision was too blurry to see the numbers. He tried to call the keeper of Death, anyway. The warrior was on speed dial, so all Strider had to do was press three numbers—just three—then utter one word—help—and his friend would appear.

Someone else bumped into him and he stumbled more forcefully. The phone fell from his hand, clattering to the pavement. Shit! He bent down, his bones and joints protesting as he patted the area around him. Finally his fingers closed around the plastic.

Multiple pairs of booted feet stomped all over his hand, crushing the bone—and the cell. Those same feet dug into his back, breaking his ribs and stabbing the jagged shards into his lungs, deflating them. Next, his face was shoved into the dirt.

Stampeded, he thought, dazed. How humiliating. He jerked the Rod underneath his body, hoping to shelter it. He doubted anything could break it, despite its fragile appearance. There was an hourglass on each end, the staff itself thin and wooden, but the thing had been made by the gods. And he was living proof that the gods didn’t make inferior products. But the Rod could be stolen and that he wouldn’t allow.

He almost couldn’t believe that he was holding the fourth artifact. After all this time, the final piece of the puzzle had fallen straight into his lap. At a terrible price, yes, but he had it.

Eventually the footsteps let up and Strider forced his battered body to stand. He wheezed, swayed. A few more Harpies ran into him as they raced past, but they failed to knock him down. Maybe because they weren’t trying. They were just in a hurry.

Another feminine scream rent the air, closer this time. The agony in that scream…agony and rage, blending together in a vicious harmony.

“I. Will. Kill. You.” Juliette’s words reverberated, each one a lash of hatred.

Even though he couldn’t see shit, he turned and let the momentum of the thinning crowd lead him away. A few times, his knees threatened to buckle, but he used the Rod as a walking stick and kept going.

How close was Juliette on his heels?

Kaia! he mentally shouted. They’d never spoken telepathically, but he’d never been this desperate to reach her before. He could only hope their marriage had enhanced their connection. Where are you?

“I’m here.” A familiar fragrance filled his nose a split second before a warm arm snaked around his waist, jerking him to the left. “Is that what I think it is?”

Thank the gods. She was alive, she was here, and they could speak telepathically. An advantage he would explore when they were safe. Right now, he could feel her heart beating against his side, fast, but hell, it was beating, it was beating and that was enough. “Yes. I’m sorry, baby doll. I had to take it. Couldn’t let the opportunity pass. And don’t touch it, okay?” He didn’t know how the Rod worked, how to pass the souls and abilities trapped inside to another person, or how to steal souls and abilities from the living, and he didn’t want to risk doing irreparable harm to Kaia. “Are you okay?”

“You can’t see for yourself?”

“Nope. Corneas busted.”

“That explains why you were about to smash into the wall,” she said dryly. “Listen. Even though I want to bash your head in—seriously, you think I’ll take the Rod from you?—I’m sorry I lost. I’m sorry you’re in pain. I could have won, could have killed everyone, but my sisters would have died, too, and I couldn’t—”

“You don’t have to explain. I’m just glad you’re here. And no, I don’t think you’ll take the Rod from me. But it’s dangerous and I don’t know how to work it properly.” Should have explained that.

She tugged him to the right. “All right, then. I forgive you for snapping at me, but back to the subject at hand. You hate losing. Honestly, I think you would kill your own mother to win a battle. If you had one. And you put your faith in my ability, but I—”

“Kaia,” he said, cutting her off again. “You are too stubborn for your own good. Nothing matters but the fact that you’re alive, I swear. And to be honest, you aren’t even the one who needs to apologize. You told me not to take the Rod, to let you win it, but I took it anyway.”

“I had changed my mind about that.”

A tug to the left. “I know. That doesn’t change the fact that I—”

“You knew? How? Never mind. We’ll discuss it later. Now who’s the stubborn one?”

Despite his pain, he found himself grinning.

“Damn,” she suddenly cursed. “Juliette’s still on our tail and I can’t seem to lose her.”

His amusement vanished.

Kaia ushered him down a flight of stairs, around a corner. “She’s closing in, and if I don’t do something, she’s gonna reach us.” Without a pause for breath, she pushed him against a hard, cool wall. “Stay here.”

There was no time to question her. She released him and a second later, a sizzling blast of heat wafted over him. She’d just set herself on fire, he realized.

Female shrieks erupted.

“You will pay—” Juliette began, only to be cut off by a grunt of agony.

He wished he could see what was happening.

Sweat rolled down his body. His pain hadn’t lessened and without Kaia there to distract him, to move him, he experienced each lance full force. He hunched over, vomited. He should be fighting alongside Kaia, yet here she was, doing everything on her own. He was a hindrance. If not for him, she could have escaped already, with no problem.

“That should hold the bitch up for a while,” she said with satisfaction, once again winding an arm around his waist and jerking him forward. Though she wasn’t currently on fire, her body temperature had risen substantially.

“You’re getting good at that,” he said, gritting his teeth to help withstand the burn of her.

“Maybe because she keeps me in a constant state of white-hot fury.”

The scent of burning cotton filled his nose. His shirt, he realized. And then another thought hit him. She’d caught fire. Completely. Her clothing would have already burned away.

“You’re naked, aren’t you?” He hated the idea of anyone but him seeing her like that, but he was amused by the picture the two of them must make.

“Yeah.” No shame accompanied the affirmation. “I have been for a while. So how’d you get the Rod?”

A wave of guilt slammed through him as he explained about Lazarus, Juliette and the kind of power at stake. All the while, Kaia piloted him around corners, down steps, up steps.

“So Lazarus is dead?”

A cool, welcome breeze slapped at him. “Yeah. He wasn’t such a bad guy. I wish there’d been another way.” And maybe there was. Lazarus had said As I’ve been led to understand—which meant he could have been wrong. He could possibly survive what Strider had done to him. His soul, anyway. He could be trapped in the Rod right now.

“Yeah, he was growing on me, too. Perhaps—crap. Let’s talk about this later.” She released him. “Gotta get my things and dress. Hold on.”

So they were in the tent they’d occupied earlier, he thought as he swayed. His ears perked as he listened for her sisters, but only the sound of her movements greeted him. Then she was gripping him and ushering him through the maze. He could picture their surroundings now, and knew a fence loomed in front of them.

“Climb,” she said, confirming the layout in his head.

His already damaged body protested the entire way over, but he made it. Continued forward.

“Now jump.”

Another fence, though this one was barely more than a hurdle. He landed with a grunt of pain.

“Boulder,” she said, jerking him to the side.

Soon as they rounded it, they ran. Just ran. Through labored breaths, he inhaled the fragrance of pine, dirt and car exhaust. His boots pounded into rocks and grass, then pavement. A few times, he heard the surprised—and perhaps horrified—murmurs of humans.

Kaia slowed, stopped, then pulled away from him again. “Stay here.” Several minutes ticked by. He hated standing there, helpless, the Rod out in the open. “Cash,” she muttered when she returned to his side.

“Smart girl.”

A haze of gold broke past the darkness of his sight and he blinked. Another blink. No change. Just that dim little light, but that was enough. He was already healing.

What seemed an eternity later, Kaia rented a motel room and secured them inside. She helped him to the bed and he collapsed atop the mattress, taking the Rod with him.

“FYI, you look like shit, Bonin’.” She eased beside him and smoothed the hair from his brow with a gentle touch.

He leaned into the caress. “Thanks, Red. Must say, I’ve felt better, too.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Nah. All’s I need is time.”

“So what does that thing do? You mentioned the soul thing, yeah, but I’m confused.”

“You got a cell phone?” he asked, rather than answer. First things first. He had to get the artifact out of Rome and away from Juliette.

“Yep. Grabbed it when I got dressed.”

“Call Lucien and ask him to come here.”

As she obeyed, the light he saw expanded, his vision clearing a little more. He began to notice little details. Overhead, the ceiling was a mix of white and yellow. The walls were white stucco. There was a window draped by thick red material. Beside him was a scarred nightstand, a blue lamp resting on top. His gaze moved to Kaia, who paced as she spoke into the phone. That ended and she went silent. She jabbed at the keypad, agitated.

Another couple minutes passed before he could see her clearly. Bruises colored her left eye and jaw, and her upper lip was cut and swollen. Her hair lay in tangles around her shoulders. She wore a clean T-shirt and jeans, but no shoes. She’d run through the streets with bare feet, and it showed. Her toes were blackened from dirt and each step she took left a smudge of blood on the tiled floor.

Not once had she complained or even uttered a squeak of pain. She was a warrior to her core, and his heart swelled with love and pride for her. She hadn’t cared that he’d taken the Rod. No, she’d praised him. Even though he’d caused her nothing but trouble.

One of a kind, his Kaia.

She deserved the best. Therefore, he was going to be a better man. For her.

Frowning, she shoved her cell phone in her back pocket. “Lucien will be here in a few, he said. Also, I texted my sisters and told them where we are. Taliyah and Neeka are nearby and they’ll be here in a few minutes, too. I haven’t heard back from anyone else.”

Before the last word left her mouth, there was a knock at the door. Taliyah didn’t wait for Kaia to answer; she just strode inside, Neeka right behind her. The sisters embraced.

“Sorry about the loss,” Taliyah said, patting her on the head.

Kaia shrugged. “Like I haven’t caused my fair share of them lately.”

“So you’re a Phoenix, huh,” Neeka said.

“I know.” Crimson-streaked fingers scrubbed at her face, highlighting her fatigue. “I was surprised, too.”

Taliyah shook her head, a study of femininity as her pale hair danced around her shoulders. “Oh, Neeka and I weren’t surprised.”

Kaia’s brows knitted together. “Why not?”

“You’ve been exhibiting signs for several weeks now. Plus, you burst into flames the day you were born. Mother wanted to protect you from your father, so she gave you something to ensure you wouldn’t do so again for centuries and would even react to the Phoenix toxin if you were scratched or bitten.” Another pat, then Taliyah padded to Neeka’s side. “I knew it was only a matter of time before your ability resurfaced.”

Strider could actually hear Kaia’s thoughts; they were so forceful, they rode the threads of the connection between them, jolting him. What a freaking shocker. Mother actually acted motherly and helped me out. I want to hug the woman, then shake her. Can’t soften, though. This is war. “Well, you should have told me!” she fumed aloud.

“Seriously,” Strider said. He would have sat up, glared, something, but damn, the pain inside him continued to intensify, his demon moaning and groaning.

Taliyah paid him no heed. “And cause you pointless worry? Hardly. Now that it’s happened, you still have nothing to worry about. Okay? Your father will not try and take you, I promise.”

“You really think?” Vulnerability wove through each of the syllables.

He wanted to call her over, hold her tight. If her dad—his father-in-law, he realized with a start—proved to be a problem, her dad would feel the wrath of a demon-possessed warrior.

“I really know,” Taliyah assured her. “He’s dead. I killed him myself. And I know, I know. His people would have wanted you the moment they heard you could withstand their fire, since there aren’t many females who can.”

“Would have wanted?” Kaia and Strider asked in unison. He noticed she gave no indication that her father’s death bothered her. No sorrow wafted through their connection, her mind calm.

A stiff nod, as if their surprise offended her. “I’m sure Strider told you about Neeka and I sneaking off and meeting a group of men. Anyway, Neeka owes me a big-time favor and agreed to wed a Phoenix warrior in your place.”

That must be some favor, if wedding a stranger was appropriate payback. And what the hell had she meant? “In her place?” Strider hadn’t intended to yell, but damn. “They think she’ll marry someone besides me? They can damn well think again! She’s mine.”

“I don’t understand,” Kaia said softly. “And he’s right. I’m his.”

Hearing her confession heated him up as surely as her internal fire always did, but at the same time it soothed him, as she’d probably intended.

Taliyah said, “They would have come after you, and they would have killed him. I knew that would upset you, so I made other arrangements.”

Just like that? “Now they’ll just try to take both of them.”

“No,” Taliyah assured him. “I won’t give you specifics about the deal—that’s up to Neeka—but they won’t come for Kaia.”

“Neeka,” he said, his gaze landing on the gorgeous black girl.

She was watching the sisters, expression a little sad, so she didn’t realize he’d spoken to her. Kaia looked at her, too, and the Harpy nodded.

“Why?” Kaia asked her.

“I saved her life,” Taliyah answered for the Eagleshield. “Like I said, she owed me.”

“Can she withstand their fire?” Strider asked. If not, the warriors would come after Kaia, anyway.

“Not yet,” Neeka replied.

His gaze returned to her and he saw that she was watching him now. “Then what you’re doing is—”

“I will. One day, I will. But right now, I have something else they prize just as much.”

“And now we really do have to go,” Taliyah said, tugging her friend back to the door before Neeka could expand on that statement. Not that she would have. She’d zipped her lips pretty damn tight. “We’re tracking Tabitha, making sure her people get her to safety. You messed her up pretty damn good. I was so impressed, baby girl.”

“Thank you.” A tendril of guilt drifted from her.

Taliyah gave the most fleeting of smiles. “Soon as I know she’s taken care of, I’ll come back.”

The door shut and the pair was gone.

Strider watched as remorse washed over Kaia’s pale features.

“For your mother?” Strider asked.

“Yeah,” she answered, knowing what he meant. “I wish our relationship hadn’t reached such a terrible point, but—”

Lucien chose that moment to materialize and Kaia pressed her lips together. The big warrior took in the scene in an instant and cursed. “What the hell happened to you two?”

Strider focused on his friend. Black hair, mismatched eyes—one blue, one brown—and a face as scarred as the nightstand. “What happened doesn’t matter. Only the end result. This,” he said, holding out the Paring Rod with a grimace, “is the fourth artifact.”

Lucien’s eyes widened as he assumed ownership. “You’re kidding me, right?” His gaze raked over the item in question.

“Nope. There’s a very angry Harpy out there who wants it back and she will do anything to get it.”

The keeper of Death popped his jaw, every inch the dedicated soldier. “How’d she get it in the first place?”

“That’s a story for another day.” Strider’s voice…so weak, so distant. Again he tried to sit up, anything to keep himself focused and there. The gut-wrenching pain and exertion of the day began to drain what little strength he had left. He lay there, fighting for breath, and pressed on. “At least we finally know what this artifact can do. Somehow, it can trap souls and supernatural abilities inside its tip. That tip can also impart those souls and abilities to others.”

Tense, heavy silence as Lucien absorbed the news.

Then a beep echoed around them.

“A text.” Kaia whipped out her phone, stared down at the screen and sighed in relief. “Gwen and Sabin are safe. I told them where we are and they’re on their way.”

Strider experienced a wave of his own relief and hurried on, wanting to get the rest of the deets out before he slipped into unconsciousness. “I don’t know how to use the damn thing. I only know that whoever is holding it can’t ever take what’s inside. They can only give the powers to others.”

Beep.

A pause. “Lysander can’t find Bianka,” Kaia said now, traces of panic in her voice. “He’s worried, and asks if anyone has seen her.”

“I’m sure she’s—” Lucien began.

Another beep.

Another pause. “Oh, my gods.” Kaia choked on a cry of rage. “No, no, no. No!”

At last Strider found the strength to sit up, concern rocking him. Her upset fueled his own. “What is it, baby doll?”

The rage glassed her eyes as she showed him the screen. Her hand shook as he read, Want sis 2 live? Let’s trade.

His throat constricted when he saw the symbol for an attachment. “What’s the attachment?”

“Attachment? I didn’t notice one.” Her trembling increased as she studied the phone. She pressed a few buttons and choked on another cry. “A video. I see Bianka. She’s tied up. Bleeding.”

After a few seconds’ static, he heard Bianka shout, “Tell her to go fuck herself, Kye!” Then Juliette was speaking over her. “You bring me the Paring Rod in one hour, or I swear to the gods I will remove your twin’s head the same way your bastard of a consort removed Lazarus’s. And if you dare—dare!—think to do your fire thing…”

A screech of rage. “You know what? Bring your consort, too. Either your sister dies or he does. You pick. For every minute you’re late, your precious sister will suffer.” A pause. “Oh, and Kaia. I hope you’re late. Good luck finding us.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

JULIETTE HAD MESSED WITH the wrong girl.

Kaia had used her entire allotted hour to gather her trusted loved ones and friends. They hadn’t hesitated to rush to help and for that she would be forever grateful. All the while, Strider, who was still in obvious pain, kept her calm, assuring her all would be well.

Sweet, darling man. He was directly behind her, his cinnamon scent enveloping her, and she chose to believe him. Plus, she’d realized they were more deeply connected than ever, and he kept feeding her support, uplifting her.

She had defeated her own mother. She could do this, too.

Finding Juliette hadn’t been difficult. Not with Lucien doing his flashy thing. He’d followed her spiritual trail until he’d located her, checked on Bianka (she was injured but holding her own), informed Kaia where to go and then returned to guard Bee, invisible, and no one the wiser.

Lucien’s stealthy presence was the only reason Kaia had yet to rain a world of hurt on Juliette. Same was true for Lysander. Well, that, and Zacharel’s firm hand holding him back.

Anything changed, Lucien would tell them and they’d alter their current plan. A plan to ensure the Eagleshields never tried something like this again.

Taliyah and Gwen at her sides, Kaia marched with her head held high. Strider and his brothers by circumstance were behind them. Lysander and his army of warrior angels were in the air, circling the area, their white-and-gold wings gracefully outstretched. Kaia had been told they were needed in the heavens, some kind of angelic war brewing, but Lysander had brought them all here, instead.

His woman was the most important thing to him.

So, actually, Juliette had messed with the wrong family. For that’s what the people surrounding her were, Kaia thought. Her family. Not a single one of them would rest until Bianka was safe. In fact, they would die for her. Would die for Kaia.

Just as she would die for them.

Won’t come to that. She squared her shoulders, deliberated her surroundings. Juliette had chosen a lovely location. The beach, on this moonlit night, was a deceptively tranquil sight. Across the way, ancient Roman ruins stretched toward the darkened sky and boulders glinted silver. Water washed into sand, creating a soothing lullaby.

Too bad blood was about to spatter and screams were about to erupt.

“Juliette,” Kaia shouted. No more waiting. She wanted this over and done.

A seething, soot-covered Juliette stepped into a golden moonbeam, her hatred so strong it actually vibrated in the air. Her clan formed a menacing line behind her.

Kaia stopped a few feet away, barely out of striking distance, and her posse followed suit.

Juliette seethed, “I’m surprised your half-wit self managed to find me, but I’m very glad you did. We finish this now. Where’s the Rod?”

Rather than answer, Kaia said, “I’m sorry about your consort, I really am, and I wish things could have ended differently, but I can’t change the past. I can only embrace the future. So I’m giving you one chance—only one—to walk away from this. Release my sister and I’m gone. The end.”

Juliette’s reply was instantaneous. “Oh, no. You will not leave this land unscathed.” She snapped her fingers and two Eagleshields dragged a fuming and bloody Bianka to the front of the line. “I believe you had a choice to make, Kaia the Disappointment. Your sister or your man.”

Lysander’s roar of outrage echoed from the sky. Juliette was lucky Zacharel was here to stop him from rampaging.

After Bianka gave a thumbs-up to her man, she met Kaia’s gaze and grinned wickedly. Kaia almost collapsed from relief. Hearing on the video that her sister was well was not the same as seeing for herself, live and in person.

“Told you,” a raspy male voice whispered. Trembling fingers traced the length of her spine. Strider. Despite his pain, he was still showing his support.

And suddenly Kaia could see the humor in the situation. Bianka would forever use this experience to bend Kaia to her will.

You remember the time your enemy kidnapped me? her twin would say. Me, too. That’s why you have to do this one little thing for me.

“Actually,” she said, tossing Juliette a wicked grin of her own, “you have a choice. Surrender or die. Lysander,” she shouted. “You’re up.”

The angels arrowed from the sky. In less than a second, the Eagleshields were on their knees, heads bowed, winged warriors holding swords of fire at their necks.

“Wow, that was easy,” she said. Hopefully, the Harpies would not realize the angels—who lived by a code of conduct Kaia didn’t pretend to understand—were not actually allowed to hurt them without “just cause.” Whatever that was.

Lysander swooped Bianka into his arms, cooing at her, demanding to know what had b

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 502