Broken Promise (The Broken Ones Book 3) (28 page)

Upon striking the raised metal, the rune
split in two and shattered into sparks. She stared in astonishment as one of
the runes on the blade glowed briefly before fading. The dagger Prince had
given her. Apparently the runes weren't all "simple" spells.

"Wither me," she muttered before
diving back into the fray. Luckily more of Roan's men had run forward to meet
the new threat, and Raythe had covered her moment of shock.

She did see Baelan rush toward the other
Elf, a whirlwind of flying silver hair and slashing sword.

Unfortunately, the humans kept her busy
enough she missed seeing the death of the Elf who captured and tortured her.

By the time she once again found no more
opponents to fight, she turned around to see Baelan walking casually toward
her. Looking beyond him to find Vesrin on the ground and quite obviously dead,
a satisfied smile came to her face.

It died quickly as Roan strode through
the broken bay doors. More of his men followed, and with a sharp gesture from
him, they ran past her.

Pulling herself together, she stood straight
and kept her head high as he strode toward her. Her eyes flickered over him,
and though she saw a few spatters of blood, relief filled her to see he didn't
appear to be hurt.

Stopping before her, cold eyes regarded
her angrily. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

Absently sliding her daggers back and
forth across the sides of her pants to clean them off, the awkward silence
continued until she sheathed them. He didn't take his eyes from hers, and she
refused to back down and look away.

Do not lie to me again.

Her lips parted slightly before she
thought better of defending herself. Now was not the time for an argument.

"Go get cleaned up," he said
stiffly before turning away from her to face Raythe. "See to the
wounded."

Angrily grinding her teeth at his harsh
dismissal, she spun on her heel. Movement farther into the warehouse caught her
attention.

An archer, hidden high amongst stacked
crates, pulled back to fire. Swinging her head, her eyes tracked to his target.

Roan.

She didn't hesitate. His anger toward
her, his coldness, not even her own distrust of him mattered. Flinging herself
at him, one shoulder crashed into his side, pushing him out of the way.

The arrow slammed into her, high on her
chest next to her shoulder. The force spun her backward before she even
regained her footing and she crashed to the ground. Screaming out a loud curse
through gritted teeth, her back arched against the pain.

Before Roan reached her side, she forced
herself to sit up. Sudden anger at the archer rose within her and she didn't
try to stop the fury breaking free because of it. It dulled the pain. Grasping
the shaft with both hands, she tugged. The arrow didn't budge, though pain
brought dancing spots before her eyes. Cursing in rage, she grasped the shaft
again and used the power of the fury to lend her strength. With a snap, it
broke, and she tossed the end to the side as she surged to her feet.

A hand rested on her shoulder, but she
shrugged it and Roan's soft, "Arowyn" aside, eyes locking on the
archer.

Launching into a sprint, she left him
cursing behind her. Springing over the occasional body in her way, she drew a
throwing knife with each hand.

The wildness of the fury overwhelmed
her, yet also lent her strength and speed. Hearing and eyesight sharpened. Feet
pounding on the packed dirt, a faint sound alerted her to another man. Kill.
Without breaking stride, a knife flew and he dropped with it through one eye.
Another man rose from behind a barrel, and her other knife took him in the
throat.

A growl rose low in her throat. Her
injury made her aim off. Drawing two more knives, she once again sought the
archer. As she neared the crates he rose up, another arrow nocked. She threw
with her bad arm, unconcerned when it missed. He dropped back down.

Her eyes sought a route up to him even
as she leapt onto a crate. Jumping from one to another, with a mighty leap she
sprang upon him as he rose once more. He cursed as her weight pushed him back
and down. Before he had time to react, she punched him once in the face. Kill.
Her blade slice across his throat with such force blood sprayed up across her
face.

Sudden silence pressed against her as she
crouched over him. The sound of her quick pants met her ears, along with the
shouts of Roan's men in the distance.

Closing her eyes, she took in a long
calming breath. She struggled to push the fury back down within her. Squeezing
her eyes tightly together, she grasped her bond with Kei. Eventually the fury
relented. She had fought; she had killed. Weariness dropped over her and her
hands began to tremble.

Arowyn?

Raythe's tentative call made her straighten,
and she pulled herself together.
Got him.

It took a moment for him to respond.
Wait
there, we're checking the rest of the warehouse.

Staying low, she wiped the blood from
her face with her sleeve and then cleaned her knife on the dead man's shirt. While
waiting, she searched and surprisingly found the other she'd thrown at him.

Sitting back against the crate, she
closed her eyes and grimaced against the growing pain in her shoulder.
Everywhere ached. The urge to curl up and have a nap nearly overcame her. She
focused instead on how crazy she'd just acted. Had the fury overcame because she'd
been shot? Or because they'd aimed for Roan? She honestly didn't know and
wasn't sure she wanted to.

All clear.

With a sigh, she pushed the body down to
the ground. Jumping down, she stumbled and cursed. Keeping her jaw clenched
against the pain of walking, she headed back, taking the time to collect her
knives from the other two men she'd killed.

Roan and Baelan came forward to meet her
as she neared them. She kept her head high once more, daring either to say
anything.

Roan stared at her for a long moment.
The muscle still ticked in his jaw, and now a vein pounded on his forehead. No,
he wasn't pleased at all.

"Captain!"

He hesitated at the call from one of the
men and Baelan spoke up. "I'll see to her."

"Very well. I'll be up
shortly."

She exchanged another long glance with
the pirate, but didn't back down. He huffed slightly and shook his head before
turning to deal with his men.

"Come along, Arowyn."

With one last look at Roan, she followed
Baelan to the house, ignoring the wide-eyed and shocked looks of the men.

Chapter 24

Revelations

She managed not to stumble up the
stairs, but did use the railing to help keep her upright. Taking it slow,
Baelan remained quiet as he followed her.

Once inside, she smiled when the boy poked
his head out from his hiding place. "It's over now," she said softly.

He nodded once and darted past her and
out the door. She didn't blame him.

"I am curious," Baelan said
softly. "Your eyes, after you were shot, turned red. Why is that?"

She hesitated a moment, but considering
he likely already knew, answered him. "When I heal the Fey, I take their
fury into me. Sometimes it comes out."

"I…see."

She headed for the bedroom, looking
forward to getting cleaned up, and hopefully sleeping.

"And did you enjoy killing your own
kind?"

Her back stiffened at his words, but she
kept walking. She thought of the Elves he'd killed. "Did you?"

Baelan didn't reply or ask any other
questions as he followed her down the hall.

Everything ached. Spikes of pain
radiated from the arrow lodged by her shoulder and shot down her leg from the
wound there. It took everything she had to keep her chin up and focus on
putting one step in front of the other. She stopped abruptly when reaching the
doorway to the bedroom.

Shifting her eyesight to see better in
the darkened room, she grimaced at what came into focus. The Elves had
certainly been destructive in their battle. Debris littered the room. Roan's
desk had been shoved back to the wall, the sitting room was in shambles, and
wisps of smoke lingered in the air. Seeing scorch marks on the walls and
bookcases made her wince.

"Stand aside."

Letting Baelan pass, she didn't complain
as he tossed an Elf light into the air. Her brows rose as next he raised a
hand, drew a rune, and then moved it to one side. The ruined furniture and
debris slid across the floor, piling into the sitting area.

He strode into the room and went to the
pile, searching until he finally yanked out a chair. Setting it in the open
area, he tested to make sure it didn't wobble, and then gestured for her to
sit.

"But I–" Her eyes strayed to a
blood stained area on the floor. What happened to the other Elf?

"Your wounds must be treated. Sit,
Arowyn, while I fetch water."

Barely able to keep herself upright, she
didn't have the strength to argue. Thumping into the chair, she winced as the
motion jolted her shoulder.

She gingerly touched the broken shaft
sticking out of her, wondering how hard it would be to remove. Baelan came out
of the bathroom, holding the large bowl with the pitcher set inside of it. The
seriousness on his face alarmed her, but it quickly disappeared into an easy
smile.

Setting everything down beside her, he
pulled a pile of cloth from over his arm and knelt, busying himself setting
things in order.

Glancing up at her, he winked. "You
surprised me. I had, of course, heard you could fight. However, I believed the
talk to be exaggerated." He tipped his head to the side. "Yet you
were quite extraordinary."

"Thank you?"

He laughed, and it was such a beautiful
sight and sound she felt heat rush to her cheeks. Rot it all, she might actually
start to like this Elf.

He poured water into the bowl and wet
one of the cloths. "Why do you think Roan has been preventing you from
fighting?"

The question took her by surprise.
"I don't know."

"Perhaps something you should think
on."

She had thought about it and only given
herself a headache. Roan and his actions still confused her.

He handed her the cloth. "Clean
your hands." Standing, he bent to examine the shaft. "I’m going to
cut around this," he said, drawing a knife.

At her brief nod he began. She turned
her head, gritting her teeth again as the movement sent more pain lancing
through her. Rather than cleaning her hands, she gripped the wet cloth tightly.

"You are too trusting."

A hint of something in his voice made
her look at him again. His gray eyes met hers and he smiled before slicing and
ripping her sleeve right off. He tapped the flat of his knife on the top her
nose and then tucked it away.

While he tucked the edges of her cut
shirt well away from her wound, she lowered her head and concentrated on trying
to scrub all the blood off her hands. One cloth wouldn't do, there was always
too much blood.

"Stay still now," he said
softly.

She froze as he braced one hand against
her shoulder and firmly grasped the broken shaft with the other. Whatever he
did, pain suddenly shot through her. She clenched her teeth against the scream
tearing its way from her throat. Eyes squeezed closed, she panted to stay
conscious as spots danced before her eyes.

Baelan dropped his hands and sighed.
"It's in there quite good. Hmm…some fortification perhaps."

When she finally opened her eyes, she
saw him over by the liquor shelves, searching the few bottles that hadn't
gotten knocked off or broken.

He returned a short time later with a large
glass cup nearly full to the brim. As she reached for it, his eyes fell to her
shaking hands. "Let me help," he said gently. "Drink it all back
quickly now." One hand behind her head, the other helped guide it to her
lips.

The whiskey burned going down and she
nearly choked, but continued to drink as Baelan kept tipping the glass.

"There's a good girl."
Stepping back, he tossed the glass into the rubble.

She glared at him through tearing eyes.

"Have you wondered yet, why one
such as I was sent?"

Before she could speak, he set his hand on
her shoulder and grasped the broken arrow once more. "Don't move."

A guttural yell did escape her this
time, and when Baelan stepped away, her hand went to her shoulder as she bent
over in pain. Blood soaked her fingers, running quickly from the open wound.
Her vision blurred and she swallowed back the urge to throw up. She swallowed
again.

A familiar bitter taste lingered at the
back of her mouth. Snapping her head up, she stared in shock at the Elf.

He smiled, head tipping to the side as
he held up the broken arrow. "Quite a large one. It's left a rather good-sized
hole in you. If it's not tended quickly, you just might bleed to death."

"What?" Her vision blurred
again, this time flashes of rainbows dancing along the edges. Riath. He'd laced
the whiskey. How much had he given her? She remembered the large glass and
sucked in a sharp breath. "What have you done?"

Still smiling, he shook his head.
"I told you, you are too trusting."

Pushing herself to her feet, she took
only a step before her injured leg collapsed beneath her and she fell hard to her
knees. She reached for one of her daggers, but Baelan pushed her down to the
floor. The drug hit her quickly; she couldn't move again to fight.

"Tsk, careful now, lovely." He
knelt beside her, rolling her onto her back. "I live outside of our normal
society," he continued quietly. "I live in the shadows, and do things
others cannot, or will not, do."

Struggling to fight the drug spreading
within her, it took her a moment to understand his words. "What are you
saying?"

With strange precision, he took her
hands and set them onto her heaving chest. "I was sent to remove the threat
of Vesrin. Not to you, but to the prince." Taking another cloth, he began
to wipe blood from her face. "It won't be long now."

"Why?"

He shrugged, his face calm and
beautifully serene. "I told you before I would ensure the safety of my
prince." He brushed a few stray pieces of hair from her face and leaned in
closer. "You cause him great pain and sorrow," he whispered.
"Your death will cause him grief, but he will recover and once again be
the prince I once knew. I cannot stand to see him suffer so over a thing like
you." He solemnly shook his head. "I gave you a chance. Had you truly
taken another as your lover, you could have avoided this fate."

The rainbows pushed in, surrounding his
face. Wild and dark, their strength frightened her. "I do not hate you,"
he said gently. "But this is what I do."

"Wither me," she gasped out.
"You're an assassin."

The Elf's face distorted into colors as
the drug pushed into her system.

Blood dripped down her side and along
her arm. How long would it take her to bleed out? That could kill her before
the drug did. She released all the power left within her, though she didn't
have the strength to direct it to heal her wounds.

He smoothed hair back from her forehead.
"I could have caused you great pain, but I understand. I understand why
you love him."

She barely paid attention to the crazy
Elf.

Roan! Baelan…he has…

Arowyn? What's wrong?

Baelan…he…riath…
She fought to
stay awake. Her eyelids fluttered and breaths came in frantic gasps.
He
tricked…I didn't…

In the distance, someone yelled. Gentle
fingers stroked her cheek. As the rainbows wrapped around her and pulled her
under, lips gently pressed against her forehead.

"Sleep now, lovely one."