Burning Dawn

  To punish him for his defection, Kendra had tried to torch his club, the Downfall. He'd stopped her before any permanent damage was done and hauled her back to her people, happy to be rid of her.

  Only, her father had freed her from her chains, and she had returned for Thane. With full use of her powers.

  Some Phoenix could change their appearance with only a thought, and Kendra was one of them. Again and again she'd come to Thane, never appearing to be the same woman, and each time he'd taken her. All too soon, he'd become dependent on the fiery poison her body produced.

  That was when she'd revealed her deception.

  Enraged, he'd killed her and, in turn, sealed some kind of bond between them, giving her what she'd wanted most. His slavish devotion.

  Sparks of remembered rage scalded him.

  She. Had. Enslaved. Him. Had bound his mind as surely as she'd bound his body. Only, the chains on his thoughts had been invisible.

  She was the enemy.

  She had to die.

  *

  IT'S WORKING. He's beginning to understand.

  Elin's joy was sweeter than the banana cream pie Bay used to make her.

  "If I kill the princess," Thane gritted, "she'll become even stronger."

  Elin debated whether or not to risk sitting up. Lying in bed while a superstrong warrior with a massive hard-on loomed over smacked of stupid. She was vulnerable. And shaky. And achy. But one wrong move could send this particular warrior into a tailspin that led straight back to the grunting, psychotic caveman.

  Stupid or not, she remained in place.

  "Kendra will strengthen, yes, but her tie to you will not. That will be broken with her second death, and won't reform with her next regeneration. You'll be free--and then, if you want to, I don't know, escort me, your new best friend, back to civilization, I would be forever grateful."

  He thought for a moment, more and more fury rolling off him. "You are sure my tie to her will be broken?"

  "Yes. But if you feel yourself falling back under her spell, take one of these." She opened her hand, revealing the remaining two cubes of Frost.

  Removing the medicine from Kendra's locket had been easier than she'd anticipated. The Phoenix had drunk herself into a stupor and hadn't noticed when Elin tiptoed to the side of the bed and fiddled with the locket.

  Thane snatched the cubes and tossed them in his mouth, swallowing.

  Or eat them now. Whatevs.

  The tent flap lifted, and in stepped a guard on patrol.

  Great! Premature rejoiceulation. Thane wasn't ready for a full-on rebellion.

  Sand flung from the guard's boots as he stomped toward her. "Hey," he barked. "You're not supposed to be in here."

  Fear drove her to the other side of the bed. Head down. See nothing. Say nothing. The guard followed her, unconcerned by Thane, assuming he was on another lust-induced rampage to reach Kendra.

  "Looks like someone's due another reminder about her place." Strong hands wrapped around Elin's upper arm, surely bruising her. A whimper escaped her. She was jerked to her feet. "I'll be happy to-- Hmph."

  Thane grabbed the guard by the neck and snapped his spine.

  The hold on Elin's arm broke, and the male fell to the ground.

  There was no crimson pool to stir her panic, and she released a sigh of relief.

  Maybe Thane was ready for a full-on rebellion after all.

  "Thank you," she panted.

  He was breathing too heavily to respond, his attention focused solely on the bed. Elin backed away. Just in time. Perhaps he was remembering all the horrible things Kendra had made him do there, perhaps not, but the tether to his control shattered. With a roar, he punched and clawed at the iron railings, until only shards of metal remained. He ripped the mattress into eight different pieces before turning his attention to the walls, tearing through the fabric, shredding the entire structure.

  Without the barrier, bright sunlight glared overhead, spotlighting him. Dust motes performed a wild ballet around him, as if to celebrate the birth of vengeance.

  I've partnered up with a crazypants.

  Uh-oh. She must have said the words aloud. He focused on her, the fog gone from his eyes...eyes a bright electric blue, beautiful beyond compare and so charged and turbulent she could feel the crackle of them all the way to the bone.

  "Stay here, and you'll stay safe," he said through clenched teeth. "Do not run. I'll catch you, and I don't think you'll like the results."

  Oh, no. What had she gotten herself into? "D-don't threaten me."

  "Don't run," he reiterated.

  Shouts sounded, drawing his attention. He marched into the heart of the camp. Elin watched, wide-eyed, heart thumping, as he worked his way through the masses, breaking the neck of anyone foolish enough to step into his path.

  Was this really happening?

  When he reached Kendra's tent, he removed the blockade with a single brutal yank.

  Yes. This was happening.

  The princess had awakened. She stood in front of a full-length mirror, admiring her reflection, unaware her locket was empty. Seeing Thane, she smirked. "Someone enjoys his punishments a little too much, doesn't he?"

  He wrapped a hand around her neck, lifting her, causing her legs to dangle in the air. He squeezed so tightly her eyes bugged out, and her skin quickly turned blue.

  She tugged at his wrist--he held firm.

  She clawed at his face--he held firm.

  "You're going to die, and you're going to come back, and then we're going to have some fun." There was absolute, utter command in his voice. "Do you hear me? Don't you dare try to deny me my retribution by staying dead. You do, and I'll track your spirit into hell and drag you back."

  Blood leaked from her eyes and nose and then...then her head flopped to the side. Her motions ceased, and Thane dropped her.

  Elin fought a hot rise of panic. Blood...blood...not much, but enough. Stay calm. Find a happy place. Somewhere. Anywhere but here.

  Thane threw his head back and released a war-hungry roar.

  Anyone unaware of what was going on suddenly understood. Warriors noticed their fallen comrades on the ground and charged toward Thane. His back was to them. He didn't know he was about to be tackled.

  Elin cried out, distressed. Then Thane squared his shoulders, flared his wings--so long, so glorious, art in motion--and spun, a sword of fire appearing in one hand, a short sword in the other.

  The Phoenix moved too quickly to backpedal and avoid impact.

  He was calculated, methodical and lethal as he sliced through their ranks. Appendages fell. Bodies followed. Blood splattered and gushed.

  Dizziness. Nausea. More heat.

  Don't scream. Please, don't scream.

  She'd witnessed this much devastation before, the day her father and husband were killed by the very men being dismembered. The only reason Elin had been spared was her mother. The beautiful Renlay had agreed to return to camp as a breeder, sleeping with whomever the king desired, so that she would give birth to full-blooded warriors for the rest of her miserable life.

  Elin had been her insurance policy.

  Renlay had become pregnant right away. But then, four months ago, both she and the child died. Neither regenerated.

  The agony of Elin's loss was still so terribly fresh. A wound that had yet to heal.

  A wound that might not ever heal.

  Finally, a reckoning had come. She should enjoy it.

  Tears tracked down her cheeks, a scorching deluge.

  An arm went flying through the air--without a body attached. A foot soon joined it. What little calm she'd managed to retain left her in a puff of smoke, and she hunched over to vomit.

  In a desperate bid to end Thane, the final soldier threw a ball of fire at him. A very foolish move. Creating the ball zapped the rest of the male's strength.

  Thane easily dodged, his wings snapping together. Then he stepped forward--only to disappear from view. He must have entered the spi
rit realm, becoming unseen to the ungifted eye. A few seconds later, as if he'd flown the distance, he reappeared directly in front of the culprit.

  Head--severed. Blood jetted from the open artery.

  Elin vomited again, saying goodbye to the rest of her measly breakfast...and maybe even parts of her stomach. At least the battle was over. Violently. Brutally. But over and done.

  Across the way, a tent erupted with flames. Crap. The fireball had not extinguished. Smoke curled through the air, thick and dark, drifting toward her, stinging her eyes and nose. Still, she remained where she was, just as she'd been told. Thane's rage and bloodlust would soon fade--please, fade--and he would remember her. He--

  Pivoted on his heel to look back at her, his expression dark with manic satisfaction. Icy fingers of dread crept through her. This is the man I'm going to trust to escort me back to civilization?

  She stepped backward, the decimated remains of the bed stopping her.

  "Female. Come here."

  Before she could take a step forward--was she really going to move closer?--two other Sent Ones appeared in the camp, claiming Thane's attention.

  Expert trackers...cold-blooded killers. The males were just as tall as Thane, just as muscled...just as intimidating. Maybe more so. They looked to be worked into frothing tempers.

  They reminded her of rabid wolves.

  She had a choice to make: fight or flight?

  Did she really need to think about it? Flight! Surviving the desert and surrounding safari on her own would be difficult, but difficult beat insane any day.

  As quietly as possible, she inched to the side, away from the males. If she drew their notice...

  Careful...

  Another inch...

  She froze when Thane squeezed the shoulder of the guy on his left. The one with bronzed skin veined in gold and multicolored eyes glistening with violent determination.

  The one on the right nodded, as if answering an unspoken question. His white hair was slicked back from his face, revealing the palest skin she'd ever seen, with tiny scars etched over every inch. Not exactly model-attractive...unless he was doing a spread for Hell on Earth Magazine. His freaky, neon-red eyes were straight out of a nightmare.

  She gathered what little courage she possessed...and gained another inch.

  The three warriors angled toward each other, forming a private circle smoldering with emotion--a sweet emotion that astonished her. Joy. Relief. Sorrow. Love. So much love. Despite everything that had happened, the worst of her fears were assuaged.

  Without a word, the three males branched apart and vanished.

  Elin spun, searching for any sign of the trio's presence, finding none. Perfect. She swept through the surrounding area, gathering the things she needed: a canteen of water, a blanket and a bag to carry food.

  Neon returned, seeming to step through thin air, and she jolted, a scream brewing in the back of her throat. He lifted two motionless bodies from the ground, unaware or unconcerned by Elin's presence, and threw them in her direction. They landed at her feet, blood leaking from the bodies, pooling, winding around her. She began to tremble.

  Rainbow came back next, then Thane, and the three continued to add bodies to the pile. The death...the destruction.

  Do not vomit. Do you hear me? Do. Not. Vomit.

  She must have made a noise. Neon's gaze hit her with laserlike intensity. Gasping, she dropped her bundle and backed away. He stomped toward her, moving around the wall of death. The scream finally fought its way free...and just...never...stopped. Sharp pains ravaged her throat as her already damaged larynx protested further abuse.

  Strong hands cupped her cheeks. "Female."

  Thane's midnight-fantasies voice penetrated the haze of panic.

  She blinked into focus. Piercing blue eyes watched her, diamond hard and determined. He was all that she saw. All that she wanted to see.

  "You're safe from my wrath. I told you this."

  Safe.

  Yes. Deep breath in...out... Yes, she was safe. He'd said so, and Sent Ones couldn't lie.

  "Th-thank you," she managed.

  He traced his thumbs over the rise of her cheekbones--more contact, even better than before--every cell in her body coming to unexpected, dreaded life, snagged by the magnetic pull of him...reaching for him, desperate, hungry....

  Vulnerable already, she was no match for his dark, wicked allure... It was as unattainable as a whisper, as heady as a caress. Undeniable. Inexorable. So powerful it nearly dropped her to her knees.

  I'm so sorry, Bay. I promised you forever, and now I'm reacting to another male. I'm slime. No, I'm worse than slime. Though all she wanted to do was burrow closer, she forced herself to tug from Thane's hold.

  "You have two choices, female," he said with a frown. "Return to the humans and chance being hunted and tortured by the Phoenix. Or come with me to the third level of the skies and work at my club, where you will be guarded."

  Work for him? Stay with him?

  Determination pushed her shock to the curb.

  "You'll pay me?" Life goal one: escape. Life goal two: make bank. He could be offering both.

  "Yes."

  "How much?" She may be tempting fate, but in the past few seconds, a mini-war had waged in her brain, and shrewdness had won.

  His frown deepened. "We'll figure it out."

  A nonanswer. "I...I..." Didn't know what to do.

  His gaze sharpened. "Never mind. I've decided for you. You're coming with me, and that's final."

  What! "Now hold on a second, angel boy."

  "I'm not an angel." He clasped her by the waist--holding on--and passed her on to Neon. "See that she gets there." Then he vanished, ending the conversation.

  Well, well. Next stop: the skies.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ENDLESS RIVERS OF EMOTION cut different paths through Thane, though they each intersected with his heart, one bleeding into another, until he could no longer tell them apart.

  Last night, thirty-eight Phoenix prisoners regenerated, the oldest and strongest first. Two had yet to reform, and might have reached their final death.

  Kendra had been the fourth to reform.

  One by one, Thane had hauled every single warrior to the courtyard in front of his club--and staked them to the ground. Hands, shoulders, pelvis, knees and ankles. He'd ensured every head was propped up with a rock...so that every warrior could witness the suffering of his friends.

  Kendra was at the head of the line.

  The Phoenix wouldn't die quickly. As children of the Greeks, they were immortal. For weeks, perhaps months, they would starve, the sun blistering their exposed flesh, crows constantly pecking at their eyes and, later, their organs. And when the warriors finally succumbed to the sweet oblivion of death, they would regenerate, and Thane would be right there to repeat the entire process.

  Merciless, yes. He didn't care. Now enemies would think twice before challenging him.

  The problem was, this would upset Zacharel, the leader of the Army of Disgrace. Thane's leader. This would anger Clerici, the new king of the Sent Ones, Zacharel's boss, for Thane was abusing the spirit of the amended law--do not kill, unless captured--not acting in an effort to protect others from the same fate, but to exact revenge. This would also disappoint the Most High, the commander of them all.

  This would jeopardize Thane's future.

  He already stood at the corner of Last Chance and Doomed, and with one wrong move, he could lose the only thing he loved.

  His boys.

  Can't be parted from them.

  But he couldn't let the Phoenix go, either. Not until their suffering blotted out the hated memories they'd given him.

  Thane sat at the back end of his tub, boiling water pouring from the overhead spout, raining over his naked body. His hands clenched the edge of the porcelain so tightly it was already cracked. His legs were bent to his chest, his forehead resting against his knees. It was a position of shame. One he knew well.

>   He should have already rebounded. He was no stranger to sex and bondage. For almost a century, he'd found a delicious sort of comfort in the way pale, feminine flesh reddened under his ministrations. He'd adored watching wrists and ankles strain against bonds. Delighted in seeing the first gleam of fear in his lover's eyes...knowing tears would soon follow.

  Messed up? Yes. But then, he'd also enjoyed being on the receiving end of such treatment.

  He was probably worse than messed up, and it didn't take a lot of digging to figure out why. The months he'd spent inside a demon prison-- Stop. No. Every muscle in his body tensed as his mind fought the abhorrent direction it was traveling, but he forced himself to continue on. Remembering kept his darker emotions at a razor's edge, each ready to cut him, make him bleed.

  He liked to bleed.

  He remembered the way clawed hands clutched at him as they dragged him into a dank cell, stripped him, and strapped him to an altar. He remembered Bjorn, a stranger then, being strung up above him--and skinned. He remembered the copper scent of fresh blood, the warmth of it as it dripped onto Thane's face, chest and legs. He remembered Xerxes, also a stranger, being chained to the wall across from him and raped repeatedly.

  A roar of denial clogged his throat. Thane punched the side of the tub, leaving a gaping hole in the porcelain. What do you know. There was a limit to what even he could bear.

  The pain of his friends.

  As the days passed inside that terrible prison, Thane was never touched. He hurtled threats and insults, but the demons laughed rather than feared. He begged, desperate to remove focus from the other men, but the demons ignored him.

  His frustration...

  His hatred...

  His rage...

  Each had slunk to the back of his mind, and just never left him. Eventually, after his escape, his sexual gratification became tied irrevocably to the very things he'd been denied, creating a hell of a lot of crazy.

  "I put your human with the barmaids."

  Xerxes's gentle voice came from inside the bathroom, a comfort to him.

  "Thank you." Thane had questions for his lovely, unlikely savior. How had she, a human, come to live with the Phoenix? What was her name? How old was she? Did she smell as clean and sweet as he remembered?