Shadowed (Dark Protectors) (24 page)

J
ase narrowed all fear, all focus, to the battle at hand. The second the helicopter touched down, he leapt out and ran for hell.

Talen set the charges and told everybody to get low.

Jase ducked behind a large rock, his rifle out and ready to shoot.

Dage grabbed his shoulder. “You cover the entrance.”

“You’ll need me—I can shield more than most of you.” The idea of heading into the earth made his head spin and his legs weaken. “Brenna’s down there, Dage. I have to go.”

Dage eyed him, indecision crossing his still bruised face. “All right. But the second panic sets in, you move topside.”

“I will.” His gut churned like he’d just fallen out of a plane. Brenna was down there. He didn’t have a choice. God, please let her still be alive. Janie, too. The thought of the demons hurting either woman filled him with a rage he thought he’d banished. For now, he’d dig deep and use it. They’d turned him into one cold bastard, and now they’d regret it.

The front entrance exploded out. Debris, rock, and a demon’s head flew by. Jase swallowed and released the safety on his gun.

Dage turned and ran toward the burning hole. Jase steeled his shoulders and followed.

Charred rock surrounded him, and the scent of burned flesh slid down his throat to land in his gut. Tendrils spread out, and he gagged.

Then he froze.

He flashed back into survivor mode and stopped feeling. His thoughts narrowed in focus, his muscles relaxed. No emotion, no doubt, no humanity remained.

As a vampire, as a warrior, he often had to dig deep to find humanity. Now, easily and with a hint of relief, he let it slide away.

He ran downstairs with rocks falling all around him, on him, cutting into his flesh. The pain he welcomed. Lifting his chin, he waited.

The first mental wave from the demons below sliced into his brain, and he sucked it deeper. Deeper into his mind, deeper into his soul. They’d taught him not only to deal with agony but to enjoy it. Sad but true.

So, he took the pain deeper, and turned agony into strength. One he’d shove down their gullets until they choked.

Dage growled low and stumbled.

Jase grabbed his shoulder and leaned in. “Take in the pain and twist it. You’re the damn king. Do it.”

Dage sucked in air and nodded. “Got it.”

Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. Either way, his brother would survive.

They reached the bottom of the stairs to face two pathways. Instinct and vibrations told Jase where to go, and he kicked an opening in the rock in front of him to reveal a third corridor. “I’ve got this one. Check in every five minutes.”

His brothers nodded, and headed down the other ways.

Good. The most power came from this direction, and it was time. Time to take back what was his. His mind flashed to Brenna, and he tripped. Damn it. Shoving any thought of her into the back of his brain, he ran full-bore into the darkened passageway.

The walls morphed around him, reaching for him.

So he welcomed their presence and increased his pace.

Two demons rushed out of an alcove, and he attacked them like a man possessed, firing into their chests. One knocked the gun from his hand, and he reached for twin knives in his belt.

He plunged the blades into the demons’ necks, shoving until steel met rock. One demon hung in place, eyes wide. “Been preparing for this, assholes.”

Following the first demon to the ground, Jase twisted right and left until the head rolled free.

The other guy sent out a wave of devastating images and pain. Jase smiled and tilted his head to the side. “That all you got?”

The demon’s eyes widened. Then he jerked away from the wall and lunged at Jase, the knife still embedded in his throat.

Jase pivoted and reached for the handle while grabbing the demon’s hair and yanking down. The demon’s spine split apart, and he cried out, falling. Jase straddled him and quickly decapitated him before sliding the blade free.

Wiping the blood on his shirtsleeve, he ran down the corridor toward the vibrations of power. The sound of gunfire and dying men filtered behind him, but he couldn’t worry about the fight. He needed to find Brenna.

The brand on his hand pulsed with angry demand, an odd reassurance that she was still alive. He’d know if she’d been killed.

He followed the twisting and turning corridor, somehow knowing it led to the leaders. For five years he’d studied them when his brain still worked. The passageway narrowed, the rocks reaching for him. “Later,” he muttered to the suddenly morphing faces. The ground rumbled above him. So many layers and tons of earth ready to fall on his head.

Damn it. He had to hold it together.

The scent of oranges chilled him through. Willa. He paused and then turned a corner to see a door in the rock. The scent came from the other side. The idea of walking into any room of Willa’s splashed bile up his throat. Had Willa gotten hold of Brenna and Janie?

Tightening his grip on the knife, he kicked open the door.

The smell of blood and death slammed into him. Panic shoved him inside. Blood covered a white rug, and Willa’s head faced him, eyes wide. Her body lay several feet away. Willa was dead.

He exhaled, glancing around the room. Emotions slid in—he was glad he hadn’t had to kill a woman, and he would’ve ended her.

Small vibrations of energy centered him. Brenna’s energy. She’d been in the room.

Had she killed Willa? Regret filled him. Brenna shouldn’t have to kill.

Damn it. No emotions.

He shook his head and once again tried to focus. Turning, he followed the corridor farther down until reaching another door. Dark energy, ruthlessly held in check, slid under the doorway. Malco.

Jase forced emotion into nothingness and planted his boot near the doorknob. The door opened to reveal a large cell with rock walls and floor. One miserable lightbulb hung from the ceiling, swinging back and forth.

Malco held Janie against his chest, a jagged-edged knife to her vulnerable throat. Brenna lay facedown over in the corner.

Jase’s heart clutched hard.

Janie’s eyes widened until the black iris banished all the blue. “She’s knocked out—not dead.”

“Yet,” Malco said, his lip curling. He stood well over six feet, pale face, black eyes, and white hair. A purebred monster. “Took you long enough to find me.”

Jase lowered his knife to his side. “Let them go. I’m the one you want.”

“In due time.” Malco eyed the long scar along Jase’s jaw. “Remember when I gave you that pretty memento?”

“Somewhat.” Jase forced a shrug. His nightmares were filled with the days of getting tortured until he wanted to die. But some memories brought dark pleasure. “You wanted so badly for me to beg.” He tilted his head to the side, studying the man who couldn’t quite break him. “Yet I never did, did I?”

“Oh, you would’ve begged.” Malco drew Janie up to her tiptoes, and she leaned her head back against his chest as he pressed the knife closer. “But Suri thought you were too close to breaking, and it was time to let you go.”

By nearly decapitating him. “Five years, and you couldn’t do it, asshole.” A small trickle of blood ran down Janie’s pale throat, and Jase bit back a growl, angling to the side. “Where is Suri, anyway?”

“He had personal business.” Malco shrugged. “Figured I could handle you.”

“You never could before,” Jase murmured. The bastard held Janie tight—no way to throw an elbow or a punch. He glanced down at Brenna’s back, which moved as she breathed. Thank God.

An odd electric blue glow filtered along her arm. He frowned, squinting, and the glimmer disappeared. The damn solstice would occur in minutes, and he had to get her conscious and ready to block the power, if possible. But under the circumstances, maybe blocking would be impossible. If so, he had to figure out a way to help her, maybe by taking some of the power himself. As her mate, he should be able to siphon from her.

His grip relaxed on the knife handle. “How about you stop hiding behind the little human and face me? It’s about time we did this, don’t you think?”

“Soon enough.” Malco lowered his nose to Janie’s hair and took a deep breath. “The human smells like life.” Then he smiled. “
Caeca invidia est
.”

Jase’s head jerked back. His body went still. Panic flushed through his lungs. He couldn’t move.

Malco laughed. “I figured you hadn’t found that trigger. The others, sure. But we made sure one was buried deep enough even Kane couldn’t find it.”

Jase bit his tongue, trying to move his arms. They remained at his sides.

Malco flashed sharp incisors. “Kill the witch, Kayrs.”

The knife wavered in his hand, but Jase’s body pivoted and moved toward Brenna. Dropping to his haunches, he grabbed her shoulder and flipped her over. A dark purple bruise cascaded along her right cheekbone. His hand trembled as he traced the wound with his fingers.

“Put the knife to her breast,” Malco said softly.

Jase fought his body, but his arm lifted until the edge of the knife pressed above Brenna’s heart.

Damn it. He had to control this. Sweat broke out on his brow, and his shoulders shook. How the hell had Kane missed this trigger? Now he couldn’t even command his own body. There had to be away.

“Uncle Jase, don’t—” Janie’s voice stopped with a gasp of pain.

Jase turned his head to see Malco’s knife set a millimeter in Janie’s skin. Her eyes filled with tears. God, if Malco dug any deeper, he’d cut her jugular.

“Back to the witch.” Malco nodded toward Brenna.

Jase’s body obediently turned back to the task at hand. Brenna’s eyelids flew open. Her pretty brown eyes focused and then widened. “Jase?”

He loved her. He needed to tell her. But when he opened his mouth, no sound emerged.

She glanced down at the knife that had torn through her shirt. “Um, Jase?”

“Kill her, Kayrs,” Malco said.

Panic filtered across Brenna’s face, followed by calmness. She looked him right in the eye. “Don’t even think of following that asshat’s orders.”

Jase’s head jerked back. Asshat?

Brenna’s hand slid along Jase’s arm to reach the hand holding the knife handle. “You control your body, and you control your life. Let go of the knife.”

He tried to unfurl his fingers, but his entire body remained still.

Brenna smiled. “I love you, Jase. Always have and always will, no matter what happens.”

Love. He felt it, too. Alive, mysterious, and somewhere deeper than his body. A growl rumbled up from his gut. He had to let go of the knife before he shoved it through her breastbone.

“This is touching.” Malco sighed loudly. “Kill the bitch. Now.”

Wrong words to say. Brenna was as far from a bitch as possible. Jase fought his body, his instincts, his own muscles, and yanked away. Gasping for breath, he glared at the weapon still in his hand. They didn’t own him—they never had.

With a battle cry, he stood and threw the knife across the room. Keeping his muscles tense, he reached deep into his own mind and shattered a wall.

Blinding pain cascaded across his skull along with the sound of breaking glass.

Jumping up, he swirled around to face his enemy. “Trigger gone.”

Malco snarled. “Pity. Guess I’ll have to kill you all.” Lifting his chin, he sent out a brutal wave of agony and images to slam into their brains.

Brenna cried out behind Jase.

Jase drew in the pain, forming a shield around the images. “That all you got?”

“No.” Malco yanked the knife across Janie’s throat.

J
ase froze, the world narrowing to that second in time. His niece’s head dropped back as her jugular sprayed blood. Way too much blood.

Malco tossed her across the room and lunged.

Jase registered the sound of Janie hitting the far wall before Malco plowed into his stomach, throwing them both against the rock. Shards ripped down, cutting into his face and neck. Rage he had no intention of controlling roared through him, tightening his hands into fists. The first punch shot into Malco’s solar plexus, and Jase aimed for the stone behind him.

Malco exhaled, slapping both hands against Jase’s ears.

Brenna yelled Janie’s name and scrambled to the prone woman.

It was too late. Everything in Jase knew it was way too late for Janie. His heart hurt. How was he going to tell Talen his daughter was dead? And Cara?

The demon grabbed Jase’s still ringing ears, pressing in while leaning down and keeping his gaze. The black eyes swirled to purple, and the demon chanted in Latin. Words Jase had never heard before.

Pressure compounded behind Jase’s eyes. His arms went slack. Nails poked holes in his brain, and a sucking sound filled his ears. Lights flashed, and his stomach revolted. Then blackness covered his vision.

The room tilted, and he dropped to his knees. Blind and helpless.

Brenna’s anguished cry filtered through the pain. “Janie,” Brenna yelled. “God, wake up.”

There was no waking up for Janie Belle Kayrs. Jase stopped fighting the pain and blindness. He’d trained for this moment, and if it was his last, he’d go out swinging. There was no way on earth he’d allow Janie’s killer to breathe for one more day.

Losing himself, losing any humanity he’d tried to keep, he allowed the pain to turn him into the creature they’d wanted. His eyes flashed open, and the nails in his mind slid away.

Malco’s eyes widened.

Jase smiled and punched straight up into the demon’s groin. Malco released him, leaning over with a pained
oof
. Jase sprang into the air to clamp his thighs around the demon’s head and twist. Vertebra popped, and they plunged to the hard ground.

Straddling his enemy, Jase punched both fists into Malco’s face. His breath centered, his mind cleared, and he battered bones and flesh almost rhythmically. Blood flew into his cheeks, burning like cigarette ashes. Malco tried to punch back, and Jase himself levered up, bringing his knees down on the demon’s biceps with a force that broke bones.

Malco cried out in pain, his skull shattering.

Jase grunted, panting with the effort, his torso straining as each punch landed harder. He’d been training for five years for this moment, and yet he felt nothing. The demon’s skull crushed into bits beneath his hands, the man losing consciousness.

“Damn it, Jase,” Brenna yelled.

He kept hitting, the sound of flesh hitting wet flesh surrounding him.

“Jase?” She yelled louder.

He slowly turned his head, not halting his motions. His witch held her hands over Janie’s throat, blood coating them.

She stretched and kicked his knife toward him. Green fire danced along her arms and through her hair. “Finish him and get over here.”

The knife tumbled end over end toward him, finally landing near his foot. Blood coated his palm, and the handle slipped from his grasp when he reached for it. Stopping his movements, he wiped his hand down his chest. Grabbing the knife, he lifted it over his head and plunged the blade into Malco’s throat. The demon didn’t even move. Jase twisted both ways until the head was severed. Staggering to his feet, he kicked Malco’s head across the room.

Then he turned and lurched toward Brenna.

She had both hands over Janie’s throat, but it was too late. Janie’s blue eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling, her body lax in death.

Reaching Brenna, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let her go, Bren.” Fire burned his palm, and he released her.

She turned her head, tears in her eyes. “Jane can’t be dead.” “She is,” Jase said woodenly. “Now get up. We have to get out of here.”

Brenna slowly leaned back, her hands sliding to her knees. “Do something.”

“There’s nothing to do.” He ignored the burn and hauled Brenna to her feet. They had mere minutes until midnight. “There’s still fighting going on, and we have to get you topside before the solstice. Let’s go.”

Brenna pivoted and grabbed his shirt with both hands. “You don’t get to go numb. Not now and not here.” Her palms scorched through his bloody T-shirt to burn his chest.

He shrugged her off, his mind wanting to clear. With a low growl, he shoved all emotion back down. “Move.”

She stepped back, blood on her face, her eyes wide with tears. “No. Janie’s dead, but we’re not leaving her.”

They had to go. If Brenna would only leave with Janie, then he’d have to carry his niece out. He bent and slid both hands under Janie’s still body.

That one touch destroyed him.

Memories flashed through him so quickly, he dropped again to his knees. The first time he’d met her—she’d only been four years old. Big blue eyes, wild hair, so fragile and breakable, he’d been scared to death to touch her. Yet she hadn’t given him a choice. She’d launched her tiny body at him, fully expecting and trusting he’d catch her. And he did. Then she’d patted both small hands against his face and smiled, showing a gap in her front teeth.

From that second on, she’d been family. A girl he’d protected as she’d grown into a woman he’d trained.

But it hadn’t been enough. Not nearly enough.

He’d failed.

Sorrow burst through him with a gale’s force, and tears welled in his eyes. They flowed unchecked down his face, mixing with blood and dirt. He hadn’t wanted to feel this—he hadn’t wanted to feel anything. As he looked down at her delicate bone structure, he finally broke.

The rock walls morphed into faces around him. Faces he’d spent so much time with years ago. They shook their heads, eyes sad and full of recriminations. He’d let the demons win. They’d killed Janie, and they’d won.

He’d lost.

 

Brenna tried to cool the fire along her skin, reaching out to rub Jase’s shaking shoulders. His grief popped the oxygen and made the air too heavy to breathe. The rocks rumbled around them, pieces falling down. They really did have to get aboveground.

She could feel the moon rise.

The power of the comet as it careened by the earth.

Power undulated around her, through her, trying to get in. She held it at bay. Barely. “Jase?” she forced out.

He didn’t move. His head was down, his eyes slowly closing. Damn it. Allowing him to stay numb would’ve ruined him for all time—she knew that. But this? Maybe this was worse. Her heart broke for him. For the entire Kayrs family.

Flames danced on her skin in colors of aqua and green. She stepped away from Jase to keep him from being burned. Energy rippled through her veins, through her muscles, to vibrate along her flesh.

Entrancing and intriguing, the power tempted her.

God, it tempted her.

But she couldn’t contain so much by herself—not after a decade of weakness. Even so, she touched the pendant around her neck. Could she beat the virus?

An explosion rocked the world outside, tilting the room, and she fell back against the wall.

Jase stood with Janie in his arms, his shoulders slumping. “Follow me out.”

Sparks danced inside Brenna’s skin. God. It was too much. A fireball careened from her hand and slammed into the doorway, tumbling the door inward, and making rocks fall to block the way. Shit.

Jase paused.

There was no way out now.

Taking a breath, Jase placed Janie back on the floor and prowled over to the mound of rocks. “We need to dig out.”

Power and the sense of life filtered through Brenna. She slowly turned to eye the dead woman on the ground. Wait a minute. Just how powerful could she become? Carefully, she made her way over to Janie, opening her senses on the way.

No filters, no shields, no safety.

It was a long shot, but Brenna was willing to take it. She turned her hands over, palms out, allowing the universe in. The virus would have to wait.

Jase chucked a rock aside, turning to glance her way. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” she murmured, trying to concentrate.

Jase bounded up. “Brenna, no. Stop it.”

She turned toward him as a myriad of different hues sprang up along her exposed skin. Tons of colors, all vibrant and alive. “I may be able to bring her back.”

Jase tucked his chin, grief filling his copper eyes. “No, sweetheart. You’ll just harm yourself. Stop. Now.”

“No.” She allowed a sad smile to lift her lips, the sensation hurting. “I have to try. It might work.”

Anger and regret flashed across his strong face. He stood and prowled toward her. “I can’t let you do this.”

“You can’t stop me.” Her voice deepened, the sound resonating and not completely her.

“I can.” His hand closed into a fist. “Don’t make me. Please.”

Energy and strength coursed through her from her head down to her toes. Energy she drew in and reshaped to make it her own. “Step back. I don’t want to burn you.” Fire crackled along her legs, sounding like a campfire deep in the woods. The sensation pricked her nerves, burning and stinging. Yet, she kept drawing it in.

“If I have to knock you out, I will.” His face was set, the expression hard. But emotion and pain swirled in his amazing eyes. “Stop it, now.”

“No.” God. The pull of power was too addictive, too necessary. She couldn’t stop now even if she wanted to—which she didn’t. She might actually gain enough power to bring Janie back. The woman had only been gone for minutes, and surely it was possible. Untold power felt like something too wonderful to name—even though it kind of hurt. But in a good, too tempting way. “Go dig us out.”

He swung.

She stepped back and swept out an arm. Fire lanced out, forming a living wall between them. He lifted his chin, anger tightening his lips to a white line. “Drop the fire. Now.”

“No.” She spread her arms, and the wall surrounded her and Janie. Jase couldn’t get in unless she allowed him passage.

He growled and slid a hand into the fire. The scent of burning flesh filled the room.

“Burn all you want. I’m not stopping.” Brenna shook her head, the power fuzzing her brain, her emotions washing away. Knowing full well the risks, she allowed them to disappear. She allowed the power to turn her into somebody else—somebody who might be able to heal Janie. To bring a human back from the dead, Brenna had to turn into something new. Something dangerous and probably something that couldn’t last.

Sparks flew around the room. The earth rumbled below them, while thunder filled the night above them. Loud enough to be heard so deep in the earth.

The rhythm of the wind, the strength of the storm, the life of the earth filled her, surrounded her, lifted her higher than she could’ve imagined. A song erupted down her spine, a new song, a melody she could only feel. Too high and strong to be heard, it wove through her skin and flesh, tightening in a universal truth.

She was more powerful than the earth, sharper than the truth. More everlasting than reality—stronger than death.

Her hands vibrated, a wild dark blue dancing along her fingers. Turning, she knelt and placed both hands across Janie’s throat.

Tendrils danced from Janie to tickle through the blue. Brenna tipped her head to the side but couldn’t see anything. Yet something, a presence of a sort, reached for her hand. Was it Janie’s soul?

“Stay in there,” Brenna whispered, pressing harder against ripped flesh and damaged tissue.

The earth trembled, rumbling deep with the hint of violence. Something unnatural was happening, and the earth would object. That was fine. Brenna could fight the planet if necessary. Potent power filled her, entranced her, drugged her.

She felt the exact second the comet drew close.

Forcing the energy into her hands, she pressed Janie’s soul back into her body. Blood squirted, the vessels quickly mending before flesh drew together.

Janie gasped, rearing up, her eyes wide.

Brenna fell back. Holy crap.

Janie clutched her neck, wheezing in air. “What . . . happened?”

“You died.” Brenna lurched to stand and waved the fire wall down.

Jase rushed forward to yank Janie up in a hug. Tears slid down his face. “I can’t believe it.”

Brenna’s lungs heated and compressed. Uh-oh. She backed toward the demolished doorway, struggling to breathe. The sky bellowed a warning loud enough to be felt as well as heard. The ground shook. Rocks fell from the ceiling in large chunks.

Her body filled with energy and insurmountable power. She tried to shove it out, but it was too late.

Way too late.