His Darkest Salvation (39 page)

His nostrils flared. Dark Magick smelled different from any other. It was heavy, sweet, and intoxicating.

Cool flowing air caressed his skin, sliding over his body. It soothed him somewhat, as his skin was hot, his mind chaotic. One thing was constant.

Azaiel. There was nothing else.

The com unit in his ear sparked, and he thought he heard a voice, something soft, feminine, but then it was gone.

“This way,” Declan whispered. “There’s a thread of energy that’s overpowering everything else.” The sorcerer stared up into what appeared to Julian to be nothing more than inky black space, yet Declan smiled and shook his head. “It’s fucking beautiful.”

Julian frowned. “I don’t see anything.”

“I thought you pussycats had night vision.” Declan started forward. “Trust me, it’s this way.”

The two men slid through the shadows, their tall frames splitting the night as mist swept the path in front of them. A gunshot ripped through the air, and Julian stilled. He held his Glock at the ready and unsheathed his dagger.

Declan nodded to the right, and Julian fell in behind him as they made their way forward. He felt a presence watching them, the weight of it heavy on his shoulders. The fine hair along the back of his neck rose, and his animal growled, sensing danger, as the beast began to scratch the surface.

At the last second, he whirled around and snarled ferociously as a face parted from the shadows, followed by two more. They were neither human nor otherworld, and shock grabbed him hard as he narrowly avoided a clawlike hand that swiped downward.

He glanced back at Declan and saw the same reaction.

How in the hell had shades from the underworld gained access topside? It made no sense. As far as he understood, they couldn’t survive anywhere other than hell.

The one closest to him moaned, its mouth gaping as the sound magnified and became louder until Julian wanted to crush the bastard’s larynx. He lunged and swiped his dagger across its throat and felt a burning pain rip across his flesh as his arm passed through the shade. Like fire enveloped inside ice.

His momentum carried him forward. He compensated and rolled, whirling around and ducking just in time as a second shade rushed him.

The air that followed in its wake was fetid, and he grimaced, snarling at Declan. “How the hell do we kill them?” he yelled. His voice was thick and dead-sounding. There was no echo, and he shook his head as a weird sensation pressed against his ears. Like a box of cotton had been stuffed inside his cranium.

Dread sat heavy as a stone in his belly. He’d taken every lick of pain that the bitch with the dagger had doled out. He’d inhaled confusion, dined on fear and depravity below, yet nothing terrified him more than the shades.

Julian wasn’t ashamed to admit it, either. It was the reason he pressed on, was willing to sacrifice all to complete his task. He would not end up as one of them. Souls condemned to an existence that was neither dead nor alive. They were cursed to roam eternity in the hell realm as nothing more than an imprint of their former lives.

Declan’s face was lit with a feral fire, his eyes luminous as they shone through the gloom. He held his hands out at the sides, his Glock and dagger on the floor beside him. His fingers glowed in earnest as the three shades moved toward Declan, their disembodied forms gliding across the floor rapidly.

“Come on, you bastards,” Declan snarled and he rushed to meet them head-on. Energy sizzled from his fingers, electrical conduits of death that sparked into a shower of light as they encased the three forms.

Instantly, the shades rose into the air, twisting as their mouths opened into a noiseless scream that somehow echoed deep inside Julian’s head. The pain that ripped along his skull was instant, and he closed his eyes, staggering back from the force of it.

When he was able to focus again, the air was rank with dark energy. It sizzled as he pulled in gulps of air, and it fed the beast, which answered in kind. He felt it stir, that part of him that he’d been fighting for days. The empty space inside him expanded, and he knew that, before long, it would eat the last bit of his soul until there was nothing left.

The rage that pounded in his chest erupted into an ominous growl as he crouched low, ready to battle. Three forms lay at Declan’s feet. Their energy seemed to fluctuate, as if they were holographs gone crazy. Light still danced around them as they twitched, and their true forms bled through intermittently.

Julian stood quickly and crossed to where they lay in pathetic ruin. Their huge eyes gazed up at him, their mouths open in a macabre grimace. Declan was breathing hard and held his hands aloft. His face was devoid of emotion as he blasted the shades once more.

They writhed along the wet concrete, and Julian could again hear their screams inside his head, though they were now faint and more of an annoyance than anything.

He didn’t have time for this shit and knelt beside them. Waiting for the moment when their true forms pulsated through, he made quick work of them with his dagger.

He felt nothing as he did so. No joy, victory, or satisfaction . . . just a big empty pile of
nothing.
He was losing his last shred of decency faster than he’d like. The darkness that surrounded him was destroying any positive energy that he had.

He looked up at Declan. “Your father is more powerful than I thought. Shades?”

Declan grabbed his Glock and dagger. “He’s a slimy son of a bitch, I’ll give him that, but the bastard’s diet hasn’t been as varied as mine.” Declan grimaced. “He’s not fed from true, pure darkness, and it’s the only thing I’ve eaten for months.”

The two men looked at each other, and an understanding passed. This was the end of the line, and they would make the most of it.

“Let’s go.” Julian was on the move before Declan had a chance to react. The burn beneath his skin pushed him forward, and sweat ran down his bare chest in rivulets. The scars that lay there were raw, and he passed a hand over them, wincing as he did so.

“Mine hurt like hell,” Declan said.

Julian ignored the comment. “Where we headed?” he asked roughly.

Declan smiled and nodded into the ever-swirling shadow and mist. “Follow me.”

They began to jog, their footsteps muffled, though Julian heard the steady drip of water. It was a constant in the otherwise bizarre and random space. He couldn’t see clearly. It was obvious the basement was large, and if the casino above it was any indication, they had a lot of ground to cover.

The farther they penetrated, the darker, more malicious the shadows became. Every sense Julian possessed was on high alert.

His com unit began to make noise, and he paused, growling as the static began in earnest. He was just about to rip it from his head when a voice slipped through. Clear, precise, and feminine.

Jaden.

“Julian?” Her voice echoed in his ear, teasing him with its warmth, and he stopped cold. She sounded tense. He tapped the unit, but there was nothing, only static, and he wondered if he’d imagined the entire thing.

“Did you hear that?” he asked roughly, as Declan turned back to him.

“What?”

“Jaden. I thought I heard her.”

“Dude, we’re so close to the prize, you need to forget about Jaden DaCosta. She’s a warrior and can look after herself. Trust me.” The sorcerer cracked a smile. “Besides, she’s got crazy Nico watching her ass. Literally.”

Julian snarled at his words. Energy flooded his limbs, and he felt the darkness knocking hard.

Declan’s eyes narrowed. “That’s good, Castille. You need to hold on to that anger. Feed from the rage that’s inside you. It’s our only chance.” The sorcerer paused, his face harsh. “We’re close.”

Julian felt like his insides were ripping in two. His blood was boiling, churning through his veins, and he rotated his neck as he tried to alleviate the pressure. He closed his eyes and concentrated, opening up his senses, using every bit of power he possessed to breach the unforgiving shadow that surrounded him.

In spite of the chaotic darkness, she still called to him.

His body stilled, and he heard the beating of his heart and his lungs expanding as he dragged air deep into them. Something soft and feminine slid over him and teased his nostrils. His jaguar erupted painfully as it recognized the smell.

Jaden. She was near.

And she was in trouble. Her scent was filled with fear, pain, and rage.

“It’s right there,” Declan murmured.

Julian’s eyes flew open, and he glanced toward the far corner. Declan started forward, then turned to him. “You coming?”

Julian was so close, he couldn’t believe he was contemplating abandoning his endgame. For Jaden DaCosta. “I can’t leave her. She’s in trouble.”

Declan’s face was fierce. “I’ll hold him off as long as I can, but there are no guarantees. If we fuck this up, you know what happens.”

Julian was stunned at the direction he wanted to take. It was then that he realized an absolute truth. He loved Jaden. Her snarkiness, mind, strength, stubbornness, and beauty. Everything about her. To think he’d find such a connection when his world was about to end was ironic.

The burning desire to get to her, to make sure she was safe, couldn’t be denied. He would leave this world, honor his bargain, but he needed to see her one more time.

“I’ll be back.” Julian whirled around and disappeared into the shadows.

P
ain ripped along Jaden’s forearm as Benicio knocked the Glock from her hand. The warrior had rushed forward and attacked as she’d fired off a shot. The bullet had gone wide. She heard the
clang
as it hit one of the containers above them.

And then there was nothing. No sound. Only the fast beating of her heart and the breaths that fell in puffs of mist from between her lips.

Her right hand still held the dagger, and she dropped to the floor in a defensive crouch as Benicio shifted into his animal. The large jaguar eyed her intently, its canines dripping with saliva as it panted and waited.

For several long seconds, no one moved.

And then Jakobi walked toward her. Slowly she stood, her mind whirling in several directions at once, but there was no way out. She knew that now.

He stopped a few inches from her, and she swallowed as her eyes focused on the slight flare of his nostrils. He sneered, and she was shocked at the hatred that lit his eyes.

“You disgusting whore.” His voice was controlled, measured, and each word sank like a stone into the pit of her stomach. She wanted so much to feel nothing, but the raw hatred that was reflected in her father’s face slashed across her heart.

“Name-calling doesn’t become you,” she answered softly.

His fist flew out, a blur of air, and pain exploded along her cheek as he landed a blow. Her head snapped back, and she felt blood flood her mouth as her teeth cut through flesh.

She staggered backward, and the dagger clattered to the concrete as she struggled to maintain her balance. And he was there again, another blow to her chest, then another, as he pummeled her to the ground.

“You would mate with a Castille? And flaunt your indecent act in front of me?” Jakobi’s voice was like crushed glass, fury shadowing his words in layers of darkness.

He grabbed her hair and pulled hard until she was forced to stand once more. Her lungs ached as she tried to drag air into them, and blood dripped into her eye from a cut on her forehead.

“How . . .” she began, then fell into silence. It didn’t matter. Jakobi DaCosta’s reach was long and tenacious. She’d been on borrowed time for months. It was surprising he’d not discovered her secrets sooner.

“I can smell
him
on you. Julian Castille.” He spit the words at her. Though the entire side of her face ached, and her skull was on fire, she held her chin up and squared her shoulders.

His eyes narrowed into slits of dark liquid, and a feral smile gripped his mouth. Jaden swallowed, and the sadness that fell over her heart was as harsh as the pain he’d inflicted.

This man was her father. He’d loved her, cherished her at one time. The memories were real, weren’t they?

“If only you’d been on the hunt with your mother that day—”

That got her attention. Jaden yanked her hair from his grasp. “You would have killed me, too?” Her chest heaved as she faced her father.

“Gladly,” he whispered. “I knew then you’d be no different than her. Traitorous bitch that she was.” He smiled, a cold, calculating turn that raised the hair on the back of her neck. “I told her as she was taking her last breaths that I would cut out your heart one day.”

She heard Degas snicker, but her father had all of her attention. His handsome features were cloaked in shadow. He was evil. The darkness inside of him coated his features in a macabre caricature that was nothing like the memories of her youth.

“What happened to you?” she whispered. Her soul cried out as pain lanced across her chest, the sorrow inside of her was enormous. So much lost and for what?

Jakobi’s hands snaked toward her, and though she tried to duck, to maneuver away from him, he was too quick. She yelped as his long fingers encircled her neck.