Alphas Unleashed (45 page)

“You must.” Zoey knew she wouldn’t survive what came next, but the anger on Aron’s face prodded her to hurry. She knew, somehow, exactly what to do to save him. The knowledge popped into her mind like the answer to a prayer, or a woman’s whispered promise.

She just needed to love him enough to die.

“Kiss me.” She pulled on his head and stood on tiptoe. “Please. Just once more. Then I promise I’ll go.”

He shuddered in response, a flash of green popping up like a flashlight had been turned on and off behind his retinas. His eyes went dark, but he lowered his lips to hers gently, reverently. He was still in there. Somewhere.

Zoey savored his taste for three heartbeats, then blew open the psychic link between them like she had dynamite inside her skull. The cold, dead souls of those he’d killed, those who tormented and soaked his honorable heart in evil, flew to the light of her spirit like moths to flame. They were hungry for more, ever hungry, and she offered them a feast.

“No!” Aron screamed at her as she staggered two steps back and sank to her knees. The voices in her head were viscous beasts and they shredded her soul into a hundred thousand pieces. Shattered her into tiny shards of broken glass. She watched, unconcerned, as the skin on her hands and arms began to darken.

Elated, she looked up to ensure she took it all from him, that he would survive. His color had returned to normal, and his eyes, those deep green eyes, held unshed tears. “No, Zoey. No. What have you done?”

Aron sank to his knees next to her and pulled her into his arms. His Zoey. She’d saved him, but for what? She’d die. No mortal could contain such evil. The Triscani would consume her and leave nothing but ashes where the warm, compassionate, courageous woman now lay in his arms. She looked up at him like he was the moon and stars, her whole world. There was peace in her eyes, and it broke his heart. She smiled at him. “You’re free.”

“No, Zoey. He’s not.” The voice came from behind them, from the entrance to the Gate room. How well Aron knew that voice. Hours of torment and pain, and none of it had destroyed him like the sight of Zoey dying in his arms.

“Back off, Eli.”

“What will you do now, Aron? Turn me to ash? That’s what he wants, you know. Do it. End my servitude and begin yours. This time she won’t be able to save you.” The giant of a man stepped into view beside them and Zoey cringed away from him. Aron lifted her in his arms and put more distance between his love and his enemy. If he needed to bolt, he could.

“Never.”

“Oh, you’re wrong about that. Your mate is dying in your arms, the pitiful human doctor you enlisted lies dead in the cell next to yours, and I have pounds of your flesh and blood to add to my collection. Fresh blood. And here you are, eager to go back in the cage…” Eli laughed, and Aron had never wanted to kill anyone more.

Eli looked enough like Aron that they could have been true brothers. The Immortal was tall and handsome, with dark hair and dark green eyes. He’d ashed a few enemies, but like Aron, he’d maintained some sense of self despite the evil after effects of their power. Looking at Eli was very nearly like looking in a mirror, except there was no compassion in Eli’s gaze, no years spent at a loving mother’s side learning a different path. Eli had been born to the darkness and known nothing else, nothing but slavery to the current Triscani High Lord, a tyrant that was willing to destroy three worlds to avenge his own birth.

Eli’s knowing gaze roamed over Zoey’s darkening flesh. “You’ve lost, Aron. Lost everything.”

Chapter 10

Hold on, Zoey. I’m coming. Fight them. Fight for Aron. He needs you!

The voice chanted to her, over and over, like a broken recording of an angel’s voice, it was too beautiful, too full of hope to be real.

She was dying. Her hands were stones she could no longer lift, her legs dead weight as if she were paralyzed. The vital things, her heart, lungs, and head continued to fight, to move, to live. But just barely. She fought for one more glimpse, one more breath. Zoey heard the voices, Aron’s and the evil one’s, and she needed to know that Aron was going to survive. He had to live.

He deserved a second chance. God, he deserved a life. He could fall in love someday, with another woman. And though the thought brought her pain, she wanted him to be happy, to be cherished. He deserved to be cherished.

The doctor was dead. Doctor Hansen. He’d seemed like a good guy, a bit eccentric and weird, but so was she. He’d been trying to help, to “save the world”. Like her, he’d failed, and died for his efforts.

Aron would have to avenge them both.

A blinding light cracked through the room like bottled lightning set free in too small a space. From the light and sound a woman emerged.

Aron blinked, sure his eyes played tricks on him. Eli backed away, then bolted faster than Aron’s weary eyes could follow. Judgment day had arrived at last. An Angel’s Fire had found him.

The Immortal female was petite by human standards, by Itaran’s she was nearly child sized. White-gold hair flowed down her back and crackled around her head like an aura or a halo. Her face was delicate and beautiful, the long blue gown she wore more summer robe than formal dress.

Where were the trappings of her station? Where were her rings? Her staff? The seal of the Queen? Where was her escort? Her Guard?

Regardless of her strange choice of dress, Aron sank to one knee and bowed his head. A lot could change in women’s fashion in eight centuries. He did not need to see the Queen’s insignia on her clothing to know what she was.

“Angelus Mortis.” He did not need to know her name. She was one of the first circle, the House of Judgment, blood relative to the Mater Mortis, to the Queen herself. She was also one of the few living creatures that could kill the Triscani without succumbing to their evil. The Angel’s Fire literally disintegrated personal energy fields on a subatomic level, breaking them apart into trillions of particles that were absorbed into the fields of energy all around them. Ashes to ashes took on a whole new meaning.

This female was death incarnate, and deliverer of justice for all Itarans, Triscani, Triad or those wandering the home world.

“Stop it, Aron. Get up. Let me see her before it’s too late.” The female knelt on the cold floor and pointed to the empty space before her. “Place her here, so I can have a look.”

Confused, Aron lay his precious cargo at the woman’s feet. She didn’t speak like the Angels of his mother’s memories. Based on what his mother had taught him, the Immortal females from the House of Judgment didn’t heal mortals, or speak to them, or kneel.

Ever.

“Who are you?” Aron knelt opposite her and took Zoey’s black hand in his own.

“They call me Celestina now, though that is not my true name.” She knelt over Zoey and looked into her unseeing eyes. “Damn it. She’s worse than I thought.”

“Can you save her?” He had nothing left, no heart, no soul, and no pride, not if Zoey were gone. He’d beg to join her. This woman could end his torment with one blast of her fire.

“No. But I know someone who can.” Celestina dug in Zoey’s vest pocket and pulled out a small stone.

“That’s how you found us? But how…?”

Celestina stood and pulled another stone from her pocket. “I’m a Seer and I know Doctor Hansen.” She put the stones together over her heart. “I had three days’ warning, but bad timing. It’s harder to get over here than I thought.”

Three days? She’d known of Zoey’s death for three days! A growl of anger erupted, but she waved him off.

“Hush, Aron. She’s not going to die. I’m sorry, but I needed them to capture Zoey so I could track Eli back to his master.” She held the stones tightly, but they glowed through the flesh of her closed fist, blue and gold. “They killed him, you know. The Doctor.”

“That is what Eli claimed.”

Celestina’s shoulders sagged and she wiped away a tear. “I didn’t see that. Damn it, anyway. I put the stone in Zoey’s clothes and gave the Doctor specific instructions. That wasn’t supposed to happen.” She looked at one of the young men standing guard at the portal. He couldn’t be more than eleven or twelve years old, another forbidden son abandoned to the evils of this world. He looked like any normal human boy, and obviously had not yet tasted his dark power. Celestina pinned him with a no-nonsense glare. “Get all of the Doctor’s samples and bring them to me. All of them.”

The boy nodded and disappeared. He was back in less than a minute with a black case Aron recognized from the doc’s office. Celestina took the bag and turned back to Aron. “You’ll have to carry her.”

Aron lifted Zoey and cradled her to him. When Celestina held out her hand, he stepped close so she could hook her arm with his. He let the Angel of Death take them wherever she wanted them to go.

*.*.*

Zoey woke in Aron’s arms. His skin looked a bit pale and gray, with lines around his mouth and eyes that hadn’t been there before. His clothes were torn in places and reeked of Triscani ash, just like hers did. She still had a metal band around her ankle, and she hated it on sight. The second she was out of here, she was going to have George torch it. Wherever here was.

She took a moment to admire the tempting, curved perfection of Aron’s lips and when she looked back up, she met concerned green eyes.

“How are you, my love? Do you hurt?”

Had he just called her “my love”? She could’ve sworn she’d heard him use that phrase in the prison cell, but had chalked it up to the imagination of a dying female, desperately in love with a man she could never keep.

“You should go, Aron. They’ll track the metal on my ankle.”

“No, they will not. I killed its maker in the tunnel outside my prison cell when I came for you. His will is no more, and he was the only one who could have followed his personal trail of power.”

Aron’s hand came to rest on her cheek and she leaned into his touch like a cat. Relief and a sense of stolen peace made her want to stretch out next to Aron and never leave this room. She was stretched out next to him on a king-size bed, their black leather outfits a mockery of goth extremes next to the billowy white curtains and soft pastel bedding. A warm, humid breeze blew over them through an open window and she would swear she smelled salt water. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know. A place called Florida. George has heard of it, but never been here.” Zoey smiled. Aron knew what George knew about this world, and not much else. Not yet.

“Florida didn’t exist in your time.”

“Not by that name.” He rubbed his thumb over her lip and she smiled up at him.

“How am I alive?” Not that she was complaining, mind you. But she’d fully expected to die. This was a pleasant surprise. Or, maybe she really had died, and this was what her version of the perfect afterlife was made of—a soft bed, a smiling Aron, and no one around. She doubted heaven could beat that.

“A Timewalker called Marina. She is an extraordinary healer. Her Marked is one of my kin, one of the forbidden sons. They drew the darkness out of you, out of both of us.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, Zoey. But it was not easy for her, and her Marked, Raiden, didn’t look very well either, when they were done.”

“But I’m alive?”

“Yes. Marina said you were related to her somehow, that you are a Descendant of her people.”

Extended family and distant cousins she’d never heard of. Big whoop. She hadn’t liked her real family that much, other than her sister. Aron mattered more. Much, much more. She kissed him, unable to resist. “And you’re alive?”

“Yes.”

She kissed him again, a flurry of quick, happy kisses across his face and jaw. But Aron, though he smiled, seemed too solemn for her liking. “What’s wrong, then? Why the long face? We made it.”

“The Doctor did not. He is dead and humanity’s best hope with him. The false king still seeks to destroy Earth, the Triads rule here, and you are not safe with me. You will never be safe with me.”

Zoey leaned over and placed her forehead to his, shared his breath and his disappointment. Soft sadness filled her for the doctor, but the pain wasn’t crippling. She’d only known him a few hours. “And why did you need the Doctor?”

“I gave him the knowledge and material needed to create a new virus I’ve named after the mythological Chimera. It will merge human, Timewalker and Itaran D.N.A.” Aron paused, and she sensed his internal debate over what to tell her and what to withhold in an effort to reduce her risk. “The knowledge and power of any infected human would give them a fighting chance against the Triads here on Earth. The Triscani walk in another dimension. The Itaran Queen will have to deal with them. But the Triads have free reign here, on Earth. The doctor was humanity’s best hope.”

“No. You are our best hope.” She laughed at him, kissed him full on the mouth, and melted in his arms, sank her spirit into his until their thoughts were one. There were other human doctors, thousands of them. They could find one good doctor willing to fight with them. Celestina had recovered Aron’s tissue samples and returned them to him so they could try again. And Zoey knew how to get around in this world, how to hide. As long as he never left her side again, she’d survive, Earth would survive. They’d make sure of it, together.

“I love you, woman. I love you. Don’t you ever, ever try to pull that soul-eating shit again.” He groaned, pulled her down, deepened the kiss, and reclaimed her from death’s door.