Broken: Hidden Book Two (7 page)

I shook my head. “You can hurt him vicariously through me, how about that?”

“You are no fun at all.”

We reached the house. Exactly as the demon had described it. I sensed for whatever was in the house. The asshole had totally lied to us. There were at least ten supernaturals there, plus him. And they felt me. Fear, anger, worry.

“They know we’re here. Eleven of them, plus several Normals,” I said softly.

He nodded. I glanced at him, met his eyes for a second. He nodded, and we moved.

We charged in and the house exploded in gunshots, roars, howls, and growls. Brennan had already shifted into his cat form, and he was a blur, racing around the room, tearing out throats. My imps used their little teeth, tiny daggers on anyone who got close enough. I found the asshole with the gun, a Normal who was trying to be badass.

“You’re in over your head, son,” I said, grabbing the gun as he shot me in the stomach with it. Healing ability or no, it hurt like hell. I bashed his head back into the wall behind him and he slumped over, unconscious. I pocketed the gun, headed toward where I felt Branford. Basement. Always the fucking basement with these people.

I headed down as Brennan finished dispatching the last of the warlocks in the main floor. I found the bottom step, and saw Branford standing in the middle of the unfinished basement. Women, chained to the concrete walls. Most terrified, crying, but, thankfully, still dressed and alive. Bait.

“You really are a freak son of a bitch, you know that?” I said, strolling casually into the basement, taking in the details as I kept his attention on me.

“I’d love to have you join them,” he said.

“So. What’s the game here? Get me here, down in the basement with you? To, what?”

He held up a remote, grinned. Then he pointed to the corner of the basement.

“Brennan get out!” I screamed. “GO!”

“Oh, he’s got a minute, I think.” He hit the button.

“Have fun trying to get them out, Angel.” He said, laughing as he walked up the stairs.

The women were wailing now, screaming.

I looked around. There were more than he’d said. Seventeen. Their chains were cemented into the walls. The good news was that he’d underestimated how strong I was. That wouldn’t slow me down much.

The bad news was that the fucker had also cemented the women’s feet into the concrete floor.

I looked around for something to break it with. Sledgehammer, hammer, anything.

I heard roars from upstairs, figured Brennan and Branford had met up.

The women were screaming now, most of them either staring at me or the bomb, counting its way down.

I walked to the first one, yanked the chain out of the wall, freeing her hands. I did that with the rest of them. They pulled uselessly at their feet. I tried punching at the floor, resulted in breaking my hand, barely cracking the concrete around one of their feet. They were crying now. Their fear rolled over me, and, just this once, I let it feed me. I’d need whatever strength I could get.

So. Damn. Tired.

Thirty-two seconds.

31…

30….

I picked up a chair, started bashing it against the floor. The chair broke long before the floor did.

“Goddamnmotherfucker,” I shouted, looking around for any other way to free them. Innocent, here because of me.

24…

23…

I had one more chance. I let my power rise over me. Let it roar. It was hungry. I’d let it sit, unused for too long. I let it have free rein now. It thundered, and the house creaked and shook around me. I gave in, let my power reach its max level.

Cracks appeared in the walls, and, thank god, the floor.

I continued to let it roar, and bits of the wall started falling in. The floor was a series of cracks, crumbling now around me and the women.

“Try pulling your feet out. The second you get free, run for the stairs as fast as you can!” I shouted.

The first got free, stumbled toward the stairs. Then another. And another. I felt like I was about to split apart, like if I didn’t let my power free, it would burn me from the inside out. More women freed themselves and ran out.

There were two more, still struggling to free their feet, weeping. Brennan was on the stairs, pulling women up. Damn him for not listening to me.

12…

11…

I ran over to the last two, bashed my fists into the concrete around their feet. It shattered, and shards of concrete went flying. My hands were both limp now, dangling uselessly from my shattered wrists.

“Run!” I screeched.

8…

7…

I shoved the last one up the stairs. She ran fast enough to get up and out. I stumbled on the stairs, the pain in my hands, wrists, and forearms causing my vision to swim. Dizzy. I got up and tripped again, hit my chin on the step above me.

And that was when the air exploded around me, fire washed over me, disintegrating my clothing and turning the world into an inferno. I screamed in agony and heard Brennan screaming my name before everything went black and silent.

Chapter Five

The blackness was inviting. I was aware that I was not dead, and the pain had mostly stopped. It felt more like I was floating in nothingness, suspended somewhere between life and death.

It was peaceful, but I was not yet ready for peace.

Shapes, sounds began to appear, like a movie on an old film-reel projector, flickering, ethereal. Lives I’d never lived, things I’d never seen, yet I knew them just the same. Battles, men in armor, men in loincloths, gods. Lightning cracked the sky, and waves pounded cities to nothingness. Always, amid the chaos, winged women.

Eunomia and her sisters, fluttering around bloody battlegrounds like vultures over roadkill. Winged, terrifying, gnashing teeth and sharp claws.

And then, there were the other winged women. Those of flaming swords, snake-headed whips. Those who avenged the innocent. Merciless. They filled me with pride, with a feral, wild fire that nearly consumed me. They brought evil to its knees, made it beg for mercy.

And they gave none.

They were me, and I was them. My stance, my coldness, my anger. They were unstoppable, ceaseless in deliverance of vengeance. Righteousness, personified. Frightening, intense. Millenia of vengeance, delivered, always the same, tireless.

Responsibility. The weight of the promise, that wrongs would be punished. A sacred oath, given freely and undertaken with the gravity necessary. Protectiveness for those who relied on them/us to do what needed to be done.

I watched it all, removed, yet part of it. It called to me, pulled at my soul, changed the last something in me that had been human.

I’d never been human.

A lie.

My humanity was a farce. Part of me had always known this.

I watched my own evolution.

Nain bringing my more demonic traits to the forefront.

His death, stripping away more of the humanity I wore like a mask.

This death and rebirth by fire, another phase of becoming what I was meant to be.

What I was born to be.

I am a warrior.

I am forever.

I am vengeance.

And I still have work to do.

I floated in nothingness for a while longer, felt life calling me back, slowly but surely. I embraced it, completely.

Chapter Six

“I wish you would leave.”

“I told you. It is not her time. I’m not here to take her from you, shifter.” A pause. “And if I tried, she’d probably punch me.”

A laugh. “How do you know it’s not her time?”

“Because her light has not yet faded. You know her better than anyone. Do you really think something like a little fire can kill her?”

“Yeah, a little fire. An explosion that took out an entire house. I’ve seen fires smaller than that kill demons.”

“You know as well as I do that she is more than a demon.”

A long pause. “What is she?”

“I am not sure. I have my suspicions.”

Silence. “She’s waking up.”

Another pause. “How do you know she’s waking up?”

“I can feel her.”

“Interesting.”

“Jesus Christ would you two shut up?” I groaned, my throat barely working past the dryness in it. My body was one massive pain. A different kind of burning. Healing. Damn, it hurt to come back from the brink of death.

“Welcome back, my friend,” Eunomia said, brushing a cold hand over my forehead. It felt good against my burning skin.

I struggled to open my eyes. I was in my room, back at the loft. Brennan was sitting in the chair next to the bed, so close his knees were touching the edge of the mattress. His head was bowed, resting in his hands. I sensed for him. Immense relief, fear. Eunomia stood at the other side of the bed, smiling down at me, as she ran her hand through my hair.

Hair?

“Uh. How do I still have hair? Or, anything?” I asked. She poured me a glass of water, put a straw to my mouth. I took a few sips, and it felt like heaven.

“You regenerated all of your skin, a few fingers, and an entire leg. I’m pretty sure hair was not much of a problem,” she said, smiling.

I stared at her. “You’re kidding.”

“No. I am not.”

I looked over at Brennan. “Bren?” I whispered. More freaked out by whatever the hell I was now than ever, the echoes of my visions during my regeneration stirring at the back of my mind.

He looked up at me. He was pale. Dark circles under his eyes. He looked thinner. His hair was wild from running his hands through it, which he always did when he was tense.

“Add explosions to the list of shit that can’t kill you,” he murmured. “You scared the hell out of me, Molly.”

“How long was I out?”

“Four days. Eunomia came and helped me pull what was left of you out of the house. She flew you here.”

Everything came back to me. “The women?”

“All safe. You saved them all.” He dropped his face down into his hand again, rubbed his face. Still terrified.

“Brennan,” I whispered. “You’re afraid of me.”

“No. Not even close. I’m still reliving the explosion, seeing what you looked like when Eunomia pulled you out of there…” He shook his head again. “I was sure you were gone.”

“Me and cockroaches. We’ll be here forever.”

He shook his head.

“Branford?”

Brennan growled. “I was killing him. Your imps pulled me off of him. They said you’d want him.”

“My imps are smart little bastards. Where is he?”

“We’ve been holding him here. He’s chained up in the garage. Your imps and Stone have been guarding him.”

I was about to sit up, then thought better of it. I looked under the sheet. I wasn’t wearing anything. My body was whole, unmarked. The new skin was sensitive to everything. Even the cotton sheets against me set my teeth on edge.

“I am going to get up now,” I said.

“Molly, relax a while,” Brennan said, meeting my eyes.

“I’ve been out for four days, Bren. Who knows what the hell has happened since. Oh…the gateway. E?”

She shook her head. “We’re still working on it, but they have not yet broken through. It’s fine.”

Brennan looked between us, confused. I met his eyes. “We’ll talk later.”

He nodded. “You should still relax. It hurts you when you heal. Rest.”

“And how do you know that?”

A pause. “You told me.”

I studied him. “I have the feeling there are things you haven’t told me.”

“Join the club,” he said softly, smiling a little.

“We are going to have a long talk, you and I.”

He nodded. “But not today.”

“Not today,” I agreed. I tossed the covers back, gathered the sheet around me as I stood up.

“Molly…” Brennan started. I glanced at him, and he was doing his best not to stare at me.

I shook my head. “I regenerated half my body. I am starving,” I said to him. He looked up at me, and I met his eyes. “And you have lots of power and you’re sitting here tempting me.” I could feel my hunger, burning my throat, an internal ache, distracting and overpowering. “I have a demon to deal with. And I’ll feed.”

He nodded, finally. “Fine. Call me if you need anything. I'll be right outside the door.” He and Eunomia walked out, and Brennan closed the door behind them. True to his word, I could feel him standing on the other side of the door.