Passion Unleashed

  Shade grunted and put pressure on Lore’s neck. Lore would have a footprint embedded in his skin for a week. “You are so dead, dude.”

  “How the hell did this just happen?”

  “Well, E,” Shade drawled, “this fuck walked in and hit you, so I hit him—”

  “Not that! The Haven spell. It’s been repaired.”

  Shade’s head whipped around. “Then how did he attack you?” He backed away from Lore, who sucked in a few gulps of air.

  And that was when Lore saw it. Eidolon’s arm. The tats. Oh, holy fuck.

  “Good question, Lore,” came the female voice in the doorway. Gem. Fab. This just kept getting better and better. She glared at him. “I’m guessing you’re the asshole assassin? Way to use me to get inside the hospital. Boys, I say kill him.”

  Wow, she was bloodthirsty. Lore liked that in a woman.

  “Gladly,” Shade growled. “As much as I’d like to make it hurt, it’ll have to be quick. We don’t have time to play. Wraith needs us.” He came at Lore with murder in his eyes.

  Lore rolled, whipping off his jacket as he did. “Wait!” He sat up. “My arm.” Eidolon reached for him, but Lore yanked his arm away. “Don’t. My touch kills.” Except, apparently not them.

  “What the hell is going on?” Shade breathed, peeling off his own jacket.

  Lore just stared. These guys sported identical markings, though theirs were darker, less diluted.

  “Show me the top symbol,” Eidolon said, and Lore slowly tugged his collar down, exposing the base of his neck and the crooked arrow there.

  “Hell’s rings,” Shade muttered, cocking his head to reveal the same arrow… only his sat just beneath an eye symbol. Eidolon’s was positioned beneath a set of scales.

  Lore blinked. “What does this mean?”

  Eidolon’s expression shuttered. “Unless this is some sort of trick, it means we’re brothers. Somehow, we’re fucking brothers.”

  Gem tsked at Lore. “Lu-cy… you have some s’plainin’ to do.”

  “We don’t have time,” Shade said. “We’ve got to get to Wraith. Gem, get the Bracken Cuffs. Lore here is going to learn the meaning of brotherly love.”

  Twenty-five

  So much had happened that Serena wasn’t sure what to do, think, or feel. All she knew was that the man she’d fallen in love with wasn’t a man at all, and that he was now bleeding to death on the floor.

  She didn’t know what to do to help, but she did know that she shouldn’t remove the sword that pinned him to the floor like an insect in an entomologist’s display case. The sword protruded from his back, its hilt still glowing with a strange azure light that seemed to grow dimmer as Josh—Wraith—whatever his name was grew weaker.

  Helpless, all she could do was sit there and try to not throw up.

  “S-Serena…”

  Her name came out in a gurgle of blood, and her gut clenched. She should hate him—she did hate him—but she couldn’t stand this, didn’t want to see him suffer.

  “What can I do?” She sifted her hand through his thick hair, remembering how it had felt to do that when he’d been coming inside her. Damn him. “Your brothers… I can call them, right? Are they really doctors?”

  He didn’t answer. Frantic, she felt for a pulse. It bounded weakly against her fingers, but at least he was still alive.

  She had to find his cell phone. She’d call every number in his address book until she found help. Awkwardly, because her legs had gone numb, she stood, but she hadn’t taken a step when she heard a pounding on the front door.

  A weapon. She needed a weapon—the crack of wood rang out. Then, a rush of footsteps. Instinctively, she kneeled, crowding protectively close to Josh, but when she saw the two huge men… or demons, she supposed… barreling through the doorway, she nearly scrambled away.

  Josh had told her he had two brothers, and with the exception of their dark hair these men resembled him so closely that they had to be related.

  “Oh, fuck.” The one with long black hair, wearing head-to-toe black leather, froze, his dark gaze locked on the sword skewering Josh’s body.

  The other one, dressed in scrubs, charged into the room and dropped to his knees at Josh’s side. “Bro. It’s Eidolon. Just hold on.” He turned to the doorway. “Shade.”

  The one called Shade shook himself out of it, strode into the room, and dropped the medic bag he was carrying. “We need to get him to the hospital.”

  “He won’t make it.”

  “We have to try!”

  “And what do you suggest? Carrying him through the streets of Alexandria with a sword sticking out of him? A taxi? Transporting him could kill him.”

  Palming the back of Josh’s neck, Shade spewed out guttural, coarse words in a language she didn’t know but understood nonetheless. “Let me check the internal damage.”

  Serena held still, hoping they’d forgotten she was there. Shade closed his eyes and concentrated. The tattoos on his hand, identical to Josh’s, began to glow.

  “Shit,” Shade whispered. “Kidney, liver, stomach… oh, man, he’s fucked up. The blade severed his aorta. We move it, he bleeds out in seconds.”

  Eidolon swung his fierce gaze, glinting with flares of gold and red, around to her. “What happened?”

  “He… he’s a demon.” Geez, that was a stupid thing to say, given his brothers were, too. But her mind seemed mired in fog. So much had happened in the last fifteen minutes, too much to process.

  “Yes, we know that.” His voice was no-nonsense. Professional. Scary. “How did he get impaled?”

  Right. “Byzamoth. Fallen angel. He… he wanted Josh’s blood.”

  “Wraith,” Shade growled. “His name is Wraith.”

  Wraith moaned, his eyes fluttering open. “Help…”

  “We’re here,” Eidolon murmured. “We’ll help you.”

  “No.” Wraith coughed, spraying blood. “Serena. Help… her.”

  “She’s okay, man. Right now, we need to take care of you.”

  “Promise… me.”

  Shade’s raw curses blistered the air, this time in plain English.

  “Promise.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Shade muttered. “Just relax. I need you to relax.”

  Eidolon and Shade exchanged glances. “I have to remove the blade,” Eidolon said.

  “He’ll bleed out.”

  “I know. We need to get blood into him.”

  “I’ll start a central line.” Shade dug through the medical bag he’d brought with him and quickly inserted a catheter into Josh’s neck. Eidolon hung up a bag of blood from the door handle, and Shade connected it via a long tube to the catheter. When he’d finished, he set up another bag of blood, connected a tube to it… and held it out to Serena. “I need you to feed this to him.”

  She recoiled. “What?”

  “Just hold the tube to his mouth. He needs to drink.”

  Oh, God, this was such a nightmare. “I don’t understand.” She still hadn’t moved, and her reluctance earned a glare from both of the demons.

  “He’s a vampire,” Shade snapped. “We need to get blood into him however we can. Now, do it or he dies.”

  Vampire? But he’d warned her about them. And he was warm. Had a heartbeat. Walked in the sun. He couldn’t be a vampire.

  “You a vampire?”

  “Yep.”

  Okay, so he’d admitted to it, but… she shook her head. This was crazy. Shade cursed. “Never mind.” He propped the bag of blood against Josh’s shoulder and inserted the tube into his mouth, but it kept falling out. The bag fell over.

  “I’ll do it,” she said finally, and held the tube between Josh’s pallid, dry lips. He didn’t suck, didn’t move.

  “Squeeze the bag.” Shade’s deep voice was rough, his tattoo glowing.

  She did as he said, and blood flooded the tube. She watched with morbid curiosity as it flowed into Josh’s mouth… and dripped out the other side. He wasn’t swallowing.

&nbs
p; “Dammit,” Eidolon breathed. “Come on, Wraith. Fight. Damn you, I don’t want to lose you now.”

  Serena’s eyes stung. She might hate Josh—she just couldn’t think of him as Wraith—for what he’d done, but he’d asked his brothers to help her when he was facing more immediate danger, and she didn’t want to watch him die. Some twisted part of her still loved him. Leaning close, she brushed her lips over his cheek.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Drink.” She stroked his lips, squeezing a little more blood between them. His mouth opened ever so slightly, just enough to encourage her. “That’s it. Take some.”

  His brothers worked frantically, barking out status reports and commands to each other, and the squishy noises of surgical gloves working in blood and flesh made it all so horrific. Eidolon had somehow closed up one of the stab wounds, but now he was using a scalpel to open up the other one even more.

  “Manage his pain, Shade.” Eidolon put down the scalpel. “This is going to hurt.”

  Shade’s tattoo glowed even brighter as Eidolon pushed his hand inside the opening he’d made. Stomach rolling, Serena turned away. Still, the wet sounds kept her imagination working overtime. Their hushed medical-speak sounded so bad, so discouraging, almost as if they’d already resigned themselves to the fact that Josh wasn’t going to come out of this.

  He still hadn’t drank. “Swallow, Josh. Come on.” Gently, she stuck her finger in his mouth, unsure what she was doing, but needing to do something. He was a vampire, right? So he should have fangs… she found a sharp point, remembered how they’d felt in her dreams. Had she had the dreams because she’d subconsciously known what he was?

  It was a question for later. Right now she needed to get him to drink, and she knew those fangs were the key. In her dreams they were huge, much larger than what they felt like now. Carefully, she rubbed the tip of her finger along the length of one, from the tip to the gum… and… was it lengthening?

  Josh moaned and opened his mouth. Yes, his canines were definitely descending, growing into monstrous daggers. God, how could she be feeling so many things at once—hatred, confusion, fear—and, at the same time, be a little… turned on by this?

  “That’s it,” she murmured, as she squeezed some blood onto his tongue. “Swallow. I need you to swallow, okay?”

  The blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. Dammit. Sliding her finger down his tooth, she caressed the razor point… and applied pressure. She tensed, felt the prick of his fang and the welling of blood on her fingertip.

  “Take it,” she whispered, letting a drop fall to his tongue.

  He jerked like he’d received an electric shock, and then, to her relief, he closed his mouth, drawing her finger inside. She remained still, and when he began to suckle, the world drifted away in a swirl of pleasure.

  One of the brothers swore softly and said her name, but no one interfered. Somehow, she kept the presence of mind to squeeze more blood out of the bag and into his mouth. In a matter of seconds, he was sucking greedily, and she swore the heavy shroud of despair that had settled in the room lifted.

  She fed Josh until the first bag of blood was gone, and then Shade showed her how to hook up another bag to the tube. She lost track of how much he drank, lost track of time. All she knew was that at some point, she fell over, and when she opened her eyes, dark spots swam in her vision. Eidolon was peering down at her, his expression a mask of concern.

  “Josh,” she whispered. “Is he—will he—”

  “He’s going to be fine. I’ve put him to sleep to finish healing. Now it’s your turn. He didn’t take much blood from you, but there’s your other issue.…”

  She struggled to sit up, realized someone had put her on the bed. “I’m fine.” She shoved him away.

  “I’m a doctor. I know you’re not fine.” His voice was firm but soothing, and she let him push her back on the bed. “I also know a lot has happened in the last few days, and I know you’ve been hurt. Wraith will never forgive himself for what he’s done.”

  “Good,” she muttered.

  “You saved his life. And you knew you were sacrificing your own life to do it. We owe you. I’m going to do what I can for you, okay?”

  She shook her head. “I was bitten by a Mara that’s now dead. My disease is terminal.”

  “Yes.” So blunt, so like the doctors she’d remembered from years ago.

  She studied Eidolon’s scrubs, the strange medical -symbol—a bat-winged dagger encircled by two serpents—he wore on a chain around his neck. “You do have some sort of new age medical center, right? You said you’ll do what you can…”

  “I can make you comfortable, and I can give you a little more time, but… I’m sorry, Serena. You’re going to die.”

  Wraith was really freaking tired of waking up feeling like he’d gone a round with King Kong. He’d have thought the charm would have ended that—

  Serena!

  He sat up so fast his head nearly fell off. It took him a second to figure out where he was—in one of the rooms in the Aegis safe house. He swung his bare legs over the side of the cot, only to have hands push him back down.

  Shade was right there in his face. “Whoa. Just relax. You’re going to fall on your ass if you don’t take it easy.”

  “Serena,” he croaked.

  “Sleeping.”

  “How… long?”

  “You’ve been out a few hours. E and I have been taking turns staying with you. Tayla’s here. And Gem. Luc. Kynan. Reaver. Our other brother, but he’s in chains. He’s also a total dick. You’ll like him.”

  Wraith shook his head, but that did little to clear it. “Why? What’s going on?” Wait, did he say, other brother?

  Eidolon came in wearing his trademark gloomy expression, which meant bad news. Wraith vaguely remembered him in scrubs earlier, but now he was in tan cargoes and a plain black tee, which was as casual as he ever got. “We have a situation.”

  “Serena?”

  “Not with her.”

  “Then I don’t care.” Wraith jackknifed upright again. “She’s sick. If you can’t help her, I need to find someone who can.”

  “It’s not going to matter if we don’t handle the Byzamoth problem.”

  A low, rumbling growl erupted from Wraith before he could stop it. “I’m going to rip his throat out with my teeth.”

  “Good. It needs to happen now.” Eidolon ran a hand through his hair, which stuck up in wild tufts, as if he’d been doing that all day. “He’s going to use the amulet he took from Serena and your blood to open up a gate between Heaven and Sheoul.”

  “Ah… that’s bad.”

  “You think?” Shade drawled.

  Eidolon put his fingers to Wraith’s wrist, checking his pulse. “Reaver said he’ll make his move at dawn.”

  “Where?”

  “Jerusalem,” Shade said. “The Temple Mount.”

  Made sense. If Byzamoth was going to pull off something like that, the Temple Mount was the place to do it. Many humans and demons alike believed the Foundation Stone, which was housed at the Temple Mount inside the Dome of the Rock, was where creation had begun and where Armageddon would kick off.

  Wraith took his arm back from E. “I’ll go after him.”

  “Not alone.” E tossed him a pair of jeans. “The Aegis is mobilizing. Every cell that can arrive in Jerusalem by dawn will be there, as well as the R-XR and every sister paranormal military unit in the world.”

  Wraith came to his feet and pulled on the pants. “Sounds like you don’t need me.”

  “Byzamoth can’t be defeated without you.” Tayla stood in the doorway, dressed for battle in leather—a dark red color that many demon species couldn’t see, and hair pulled into a ponytail. “Underground rumblings indicate that he’s mobilized his own army. The Aegis might not be able to get through his horde to get to him.”

  “But I’m charmed and they can’t touch me.” Not unless the army was made up of fallen angels.

  “Exactl
y. Kynan and I have been coordinating our attack plan with that of The Aegis and military units. We need you to at least keep him from performing the ritual until we can get to him.”

  “And what are you going to do when you get there? News flash, slayer; he’s immortal.”

  “We’re going to do the same thing you are. Hurt him. Keep him from performing the ritual and take the amulet back. According to Reaver, he’s got only a few minutes to open the gate.” She grinned. “Besides, The Aegis does have a few tricks up its sleeve. So keep him busy until we get there.”

  “You won’t need to get to him,” Wraith swore, “because I’m taking his fucking head off. Even immortals have issues with decapitation.” He swung around to E. “Now tell me about Serena.”

  “Wraith—”

  “Now.”

  E and Shade exchanged glances, and Wraith braced himself for the worst. “You know she’s dying.”

  “Yeah. Fix it.” Shade moved toward him, but Wraith backed up, unable to bear any touch but Serena’s right now. And he knew damn good and well she wouldn’t be touching him. She hated him. She had to. “How… how is she?”

  Eidolon gave a dismal shake of the head. “Her disease is irreversible, and it’s progressing fast.”

  Wraith felt like he’d been stabbed in the gut. Again.

  “I’ve given her something for the pain, and Shade’s been getting inside and forcing her organs to work optimally, but the effects of both are temporary. It’s only buying her time and making her more comfortable.”

  “We traded places,” Wraith murmured, rubbing his chest where he could already feel the loss. “What am I going to do without her?”

  “I’m sorry, bro,” Shade said, but Wraith held up his hand, not wanting to hear it. Hearing it would make it real.

  He brushed past Tayla and came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a dark-haired male sitting in the hallway, his arms and legs bound in Bracken Cuffs—chains used by the Judicia to negate a demon’s abilities while in custody.

  The dude was wearing leather pants and boots, but no shirt.

  His dermoire appeared to be faded, but it was an exact replica of the markings Wraith and his brothers wore, minus their individual signs. And he had a strange, palm-shaped burn scar over his heart.