Bound to Blackwood (34 page)

Joker cocked his head to the side as he caught the grumble. Smiling he said, "We are not so very different you and I, Lena."

"We couldn't be more different," she retorted.

His nostrils flared as he drew a heavy breath. His smile widened, his fangs flashing in the yellow street light. "Are you sure about that? You hunger, Lena. Soul bearing is in our nature."

"You knew the rules yet you chose to fall." Agitated, Lena threw her sword from palm to palm as she continued to circle him.

He snorted at her reasoning. "If you say so," he said, rising to his feet again.

It was all the opening Lena needed.

She moved so fast, Joker didn't see her coming until she was right on top of him. She grappled with him, throwing him up and away from the wounded human. He landed a good ten yards away but Lena was on him again.

She swang at his head. He rolled away from her so that she missed the vital contact she'd aimed for. Instead, the steel tore through his upper arm and shoulder. Joker howled at the unexpected pain, but still jumped to his feet.

Lena's nose wrinkled at the Fallen blood flowing steadily from the savage cut but she knew the wound wasn't enough. And so did Joker.

He nodded at her, conceding that small defeat, then took up his sword in his left hand. From the way he held it, she knew he was well versed in left — handed swordsmanship.
Brilliant.
Give her a gun-toting coward any day.
 

Most Fallen would run when left to face her so wounded. And alone. This one was different. "Who are you?" Lena asked under her breath.

Joker smirked. "Let's just say, we have history, you and I."

"Yeah right." She didn't know him from Adam. Fallen all looked the same to her.

"London isn't just my home town."

"Whatever." She dismissed him and advanced again. She brought her sword down hard but he met her blade with his as he raised it square above his head.

Twisting away, she rounded on him as he took another swing at her. Their blades sliced through the air in a blur. The sound of clashing steel rang out across the small square, drawing out the riotous nightlife just streets away.

Their swords locked together, Lena faced him, his nose mere inches from her own. She growled, going for her dagger again, but Joker brought his knee up hard and slammed it into her abdomen.

The blow sent her flying through the air, more pain enveloping her. She landed with a heavy thud, her face crashing into the trunk of a huge oak tree. Stars clouded her vision as she struggled to her feet. The flesh around her eye started to swell.

With her vision impaired, she faced him side on as he ran at her, his right arm now hanging uselessly at his side. Lena ducked as he swung. Pushing all of her weight onto the ball of her foot, she span and hit him with a heel kick.

She heard a crack as she connected with Joker's knee and watched him tumble to the ground. He didn't fall far from her and Lena was on him in an instant. Her sword cut through the air and sliced across his throat.

Anger whipped around Kaden's head as he looked up at Thorn. The King's breath came in short hard bursts as he loomed over him. Kaden had recovered enough from the blow Thorn dealt him to sit up, but he made no move to get to his feet. Neither did he retaliate. He didn't say a single word. Instead, Kaden's narrowed his eyes as he stared at Thorn with absolute disgust.

Kaden sensed the guilt that enveloped Thorn as he continued to stare down at him, and deep down, Kaden knew his wasn't the real Thorn. The Thorn Blackwood he knew prided himself on his rationality, his ability to stay calm under the greatest of pressures. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, Thorn was the most lucid person Kaden knew, Fae or otherwise.

What the hell is happening?

Pain sliced through Kaden's thoughts a moment before Thorn hissed. Kaden felt his brow knit as he mentally checked himself. Apart from the swollen nose courtesy of his sometimes-friend, he wasn't injured. He gave Thorn the once-over. Thorn carried no injury either. Why had he…

Lena.

Thorn would know from his bond that she was in West London, but Kaden's ability far surpassed his. "Where is she?" Thorn demanded.

"Why do you care?" Kaden spat. He saw confusion ghost across Thorn's face, as if he really didn't know the answer.

"I need to go to her, Kaden."

Kaden searched his face looking for something he could trust. The swirling emotions in Thorn's white hot eyes made it difficult for Kaden to truly read him. Thorn winced and Kaden knew it was the distrust in his own face that hurt him, but Kaden would not apologise. Lena was all that mattered.

Yet there was a desperation in Thorn's face that made Kaden finally relent. "Soho Square," he replied.

Thorn just nodded and fled from the room.

Kaden pulled himself to his feet, shaking his head, wondering whether he'd just done the right thing.

A soft, feminine voice answered him as the sweet scent of peaches floated into the Command Centre. "You did."

Kaden sighed. Soraya's presence always calmed him but he had to stifle a groan as he turned to face her. The Princess would look perfect in a bin liner, but today she looked particularly lovely.

Wearing pink, as always, today she had on what she called her dossing around gear. In truth she could wear the trouser and t-shirt combo to the Ritz and no one would bat an eyelid. Her cerise shirt scooped at the neck, just low enough to show the top of her cleavage. The dark trousers moulded themselves to her pert bottom and slim thighs before kicking out at the knee so that the hem completely covered her tiny feet. Somehow she managed to look both innocent and provocative at the same time. He highly doubted she knew just how alluring she was.

"I did what?" he asked, remembering that she spoke first.

"You did the right thing, Kaden."

"I wish I was as sure as you on that, Princess," he replied.

Soraya moved closer, her pretty pink toenails peeking out from under her flares as she walked. Smiling she laid a gentle hand on his arm. "You always do, Keeper of the Watch."

Kaden had to laugh. Though he tried, he knew he didn't always manage it. Far from it in some cases.

"Why do you laugh?" she asked, frowning.

Kaden took her hand in his. "I wish I had as much faith in folk as you do, Princess." He really didn't think Lena would thank him for telling Thorn exactly where she was. In fact, he really didn't want to think about the whole situation at all.

Soraya smiled as she turned to leave. "Trust me, Kaden. You're doing the right thing."

Kaden watched her go, and in that moment he believed her. If only that were true for the rest of the time.

Thorn stepped out from the shadow of the Huguenot Protestant Church in Soho Square. The stench of Fallen hung heavy in the air, making the bile rise in his throat. But what made him nauseous was the delicate scent of Lena's blood that rode the air with that of the Fallen.

Flashing across the small park, he found her.

His first thought was to go to her, but as he rushed towards her he realised she wasn't alone. Lena cradled the human to her as the air around them hummed and crackled. Thorn's jaw went slack as the realisation of what he was seeing hit him.

The faint green glow of the human's soul shifted and shimmered as Lena's power forced it back, moulding it, shaping it. Binding it. The pale green shone more brightly as Lena worked, the air becoming more dense as the spring greens turned into a deep emerald.

Lena's raven hair whipped across her face and her eyes glowed a vibrant sea-green as she forced the woman's soul back to her body. A great roar echoed around the park and for a moment the air stood still before a blinding light made Thorn shield his eyes. And then it was gone.

Thorn heard the woman's heartbeat kick-start as her soul found home again.

Lena released her vice-like grip on the woman and fell backwards. Thorn caught her before her head could hit the ground. She was ghostly pale as Thorn cradled her against his chest, her breathing shallow. The exertion of holding the human soul showed in the sheen of sweat across her brow and Thorn winced at the bruising on her cheek bone.

"For the love of all that is holy, Lena! What the hell were you thinking?"

Lena's now black eyes fluttered open and stared up at him in disgust. Even injured, with her powers severely depleted, Lena's contempt for him was tangible. "No one should hold dominion over another's soul," she spat back at him.

Thorn closed his eyes.
So
she
knew
. In that moment he realised he'd convinced himself that she hadn't really seen through him that night in her bedroom. That she'd just rejected him because she didn't want him, even told himself that it would all be fine. The look on Lena's face told him otherwise.
 

As if on cue, the delicious scent of her blood became overwhelming. Thorn gritted his teeth as exotic spices assaulted him. It was almost overpowering.

"You need to get away from me," Lena said as she struggled to get up. She made it to her feet, but it wasn't without considerable effort. She hissed as she stood upright, clutching her ribs with a shaky hand.

Now she was standing Thorn could see the vicious gash across her side. The blood flow had stemmed, the wound already starting to heal, but it must be agony. Thorn winced as he watched her, but he was powerless to help. She was too wary of him. If he went anywhere near her, he had no doubt she wouldn't hesitate to do him some serious damage. Just the thought made him want to cross his legs and protect his manhood.

Lena started across the lawn, grunting with every step. "Lena, stop! You need to see Soraya," Thorn called after her.

"I need to clean up this mess," she replied without missing a step.

"Listen to me, Lena," Thorn said as he followed her across the green. "That wound needs looking at. You can't just go traipsing around without a single thought for your own safety!"

Lena rounded on him, her eyes wild. "I've had worse and you know it!" she hissed.

"Yes, but…"
That was before,
he thought to himself.
 

"But nothing, Thorn! If you're going to help, then do it. If not, then do us both a favour and leave me alone!"

By Faerie, she was stubborn.

Again, nothing new, but he wasn't used to having her stubbornness so squarely directed at him. Determined not to abandon the damned mule, he followed her. Halfway across the square, the ridiculousness of the situation hit him; here he was, the King of the race, wandering around the middle of London, chasing after a girl.

The smile teasing the corners of his mouth disappeared as he caught up with Lena, crouched over a dead Fallen. The stench of his decaying body caught in Thorn's throat but he felt truly ill as Lena turned the remains over. "Fuck!"

Lena laughed as she looked up at him. "What's the matter, Thorn? So lofty you can't deal with a little blood and gore?"

Thorn shook his head and he stared at a face he'd known all his life.

Lena's patience was wearing thin. Despite her wariness of him, Thorn still ignited a fire within her and she needed to get as far away as she could from him. She looked up at him and gasped.