Read Darkness Awakened (Primal Heat Trilogy #1) (Order of the Blade) Online
Authors: Stephanie Rowe
Ana winced as the throbbing ache in her palm pried her from restless sleep. Reluctantly, not wanting to see the reality of her circumstances, she opened her eyes. Cement walls, iron bars on the windows, everything painted a steel gray. A toilet in the corner. She was back in her cell, Ana realized with a crush of despair. Again.
She didn’t even remember how she’d gotten here this time. She couldn’t recall what nightmare Nate had thrust her into on their latest trip. A blessing, to forget. A respite she knew wouldn’t last.
Ana rolled over with a groan. Every muscle, every bone, every inch of her hurt.
The memory of Nate’s last beating hit her, and too soon the last few days came tumbling back. The fire in the woods. The uplifting realization that Grace was searching for her. The subsequent terror that her sister would be hurt trying to help her. Being dragged through the Oregon woods by Nate, her body so beaten and exhausted she’d been unconscious half the time. The bar...
Elijah.
Ana’s heart leapt into her throat at the memory of his strong arms, and the intensity of his expression when he’d said those words that had been haunting her sleep ever since.
I’m the man who is meant to save you.
Had it been real? Had
he
been real? Had there really been someone with a good heart, the soul of an angel, who had believed she was still worth rescuing after all she’d done? Afraid to look, afraid to find out it was all an illusion, Ana stole a peek at her palm.
Her heart tightened when she saw the puncture wound from Elijah’s throwing star. There it was. Truth. Reality. The injury she’d gotten while trying to persuade Elijah to abandon her to save himself, when he’d refused. She’d been marked by his death. Tears filled her eyes and she pressed her hand to her chest as the rest of the memory vividly tore away at the gift of being held by someone who treasured her.
Elijah’s death. His voice calling for her so desperately as he’d died. The weight of his body as he’d fallen to the earth, Nate’s knife in his throat.
Ana dropped her hand back to the cot with a moan, as despair overwhelmed her in a crushing flood. She’d clung to Elijah as he’d fallen, as life had bled from his body. She’d fought to hold onto to him, to give him a link to life to hang onto, but he’d slipped away, dying in her arms just as she’d lost consciousness, unable to hang on any longer.
A courageous warrior had died for her. He’d died because he’d tried to save her, instead of saving himself. How was it possible that he’d made that choice? Elijah Ross was a stranger, a man who had no reason to give up his life for hers, and yet he’d done it anyway.
Ana had felt him recoil when she’d told him she was an Illusionist, and yet he’d stayed, he’d planted his stubborn feet and claimed her life as more valuable than his. Why would he do that?
Guilt pressed down on Ana, guilt and shame for all the people who had died trying to protect her. Her parents. Elijah. Grace’s suffering and sacrifices on her behalf. If Ana was stronger, if she was smarter, if she was better, no one would have had to make those choices. “Dammit, Elijah” she shouted. “Why did you do that?”
A man with that sense of honor and that kind of beauty in his soul should still be alive, not dead because he’d chosen her life over his.
Of all the warriors who’d died because of her over the last few months, Ana could think only of Elijah. She would never forget the way he’d looked at her as he’d picked her up, as if she were an angel of light brought into his life. The fierceness of his expression when he’d seen her bruises—in that one second, she’d thought her nightmare was over: the torment, the beatings, the killings, the hell of what she had become. She’d finally believed that she’d found her path to safety and freedom. She’d thought she was free.
And then… God… to have it all end like that, with such violence, with Elijah’s death… Ana’s heart swelled with pain, and all the loneliness and isolation and fear she’d been holding back crashed down on her, crushing her—
The door creaked and Ana sucked in her sobs, trying to catch her breath so Nate wouldn’t see her cry. She couldn’t let him know how much Elijah’s death had affected her. Somehow, he’d use it against her. The connection she and Elijah had made in that terrible moment had been private, something special that she would never tarnish by allowing Nate to touch it.
Elijah was dead, yes. But he’d died for her, and that would bind them forever. Ana rolled onto her side, away from the door, and she wiped her cheeks, trying to pull herself together. She braced herself for the sound of Nate’s voice, for the nauseating feel of his hand on her arm.
But there was no smug laughter about who they’d killed.
There was no claustrophobic touch to her body.
There was simply the quiet shuffle of gentle footsteps, not the forceful sound of Nate’s boots hitting the cracked cement floor. It sounded like a woman, like kindness, like hope. But how was that possible? Was Ana imagining it? She was too tired to believe. Too drained to face one more disappointment.
But Ana rolled over to face the room anyway, because hope was all she had left. Once she gave up on that, she knew she would die. So she opened her eyes a slit to inspect the room, and then blinked in surprise.
It was a woman with a tray of food. A woman about her age. A woman with a gentle sway to her hips and a kindness to her face. Not a danger. A friend?
Hoping against hope, fighting against disbelief, Ana watched silently as the woman crossed the room and set the tray next to the cot. The newcomer was wearing a flowing white skirt that drifted around her legs, and a white cotton camisole. She was barefoot, and her pale blonde hair hung limply around her shoulders, tucked behind her ears. Her clothes were slightly tattered and dirty, but she held her chin at an angle that spoke of courage and strength.
She met Ana’s gaze and smiled, her moss-green eyes full of warmth and empathy. “I brought food.”
“I see that.” Ana flinched at her guarded tone. “Thank you,” she added, trying to find her way back to the person she used to be. Someone who was pleasant, who found joy in the small things in life. Like having food and someone to talk with who wasn’t wielding a knife. “Who are you?” Her voice sounded raspy, and she took the glass of water from the tray, letting the cool liquid soothe her parched throat.
“My name is Lily.” The woman sat back on her heels, glancing at Ana’s legs. Sadness filled her eyes, and Ana followed her gaze. Her legs were covered in bruises, black, purple, yellow. Not an inch of unmarred skin remained. Cuts everywhere, some of them oozing, others freshly cleaned. By Lily?
“Nate got to me,” Ana said.
Lily met her gaze. “When he brought you in last night, I thought you wouldn’t recover.”
Defiance flashed through Ana, and she made herself sit up. “I’m not ready to die. I have to kill him first.” She cringed at the sentiment, at the violent words that seemed to tumble so freely from her mouth now. She wouldn’t let him turn her into that kind of person, no matter what. “I mean, I need to get away from him. I need to go home.”
Something flashed in Lily’s eyes, but it was gone before Ana could identify it. Anger? Empathy? Longing ? She wasn’t sure. “I know how you feel.”
“Do you work for him?” Ana asked tentatively. Was it really possible Lily was on her side? That she wasn’t alone here anymore?
“No. I’m his prisoner, like you.” Lily glanced at the door, as if half-expecting Nate to walk in. “I talked him into letting me bring you food and check on your injuries. I wanted to make sure you were healing.” Anger simmered in those gentle eyes. “He’s resting up.”
“Resting up for what?” The room began to spin as pain took over, and Ana scrunched her eyes closed against a wave of dizziness.
“I’ll kill you if you want,” Lily said. Her beautiful green eyes were hard with reality. “Spare you what’s to come.” There was a gritty realization in Lily’s face that said she knew what Nate would do to her if she killed his precious toy, but she was willing to do it anyway. For Ana.
“Thanks, but I’m not willing to give up yet.” Ana eyed her thoughtfully, rejuvenated by the camaraderie with this stranger. For the first time since she had been stolen, she had a connection to someone. Her first real break. “How long have you been here?”
“Two years.”
Ana’s stomach turned, and all her newfound energy dissipated. “
Two years?
You’ve been his prisoner for two years?”
“Yes.” Lily’s eyes were haunted. “My elegant lodgings are just down the hall from you. Same décor. So lovely, aren’t they?”
Ana was startled by Lily’s humor, so out of place in this nightmare. But at the same time, it felt like this breath of normalcy to quip lightly. It felt good, and she understood why Lily had done it. How else was she still sane after two years here? “I hear crumbing cement is quite the rage in New York these days,” Ana managed to reply, trying to follow Lily’s lead and find some kind of relief from this hell they were trapped in.
“I’m sure it is.” Lily winked, then she leaned forward and lowered her voice, all amusement gone from her voice. “I heard Nate talking. He has plans that will require an extremely powerful illusion from you. Very deadly. He’ll do whatever it takes to make you do it.”
Ana couldn’t help but shudder. More blood? More death? Murdering another innocent man? She thought of Lily’s offer to kill her. Was Ana being selfish by wanting to stay alive? Her existence was causing more people to die. Was it fair of her to turn down an offer to rid the world of the threat she brought? Maybe not. Maybe she should accept it.
But dammit! She didn’t want to die! She wasn’t brave enough to sacrifice her own life to save all these Calydons, but the warriors she’d helped kill would haunt her forever.
Especially Elijah. She shuddered as she remembered the visceral hatred burning in his eyes once he’d realized she was an Illusionist. That hadn’t been simple prejudice. It had been personal, and she ached for him, for whatever had been done to cause that kind of response in him.
“Ana? Would you like me to kill you?” The pleasant tone in Lily’s voice was in such sharp contrast to the words rolling so easily off her tongue. Lily’s eyes were hard, but at the same time, they were so laden with exhaustion and fear that Ana’s heart tightened for her. They were the same, she and Lily. Caught in Nate’s trap without any way out. Surviving from breath to breath, praying that the next one would bring the freedom they were living for.
“No.” She met Lily’s gaze, wondering how exactly Lily had planned to kill her. She didn’t look strong enough. “But I appreciate the offer.” She hesitated, suddenly afraid of losing her. “Can you come again? Will I see you?”
“Probably not. It was difficult enough to get in to see you this time, but I had to talk to you. I needed to let you know you weren’t alone.” She smiled. “No matter how hard it gets, remember that I’m here too.” She pointed to the right. “I’m just down the hall, and I’m always here. He doesn’t let me outdoors. It helps to know you’re not alone.”
Ana nodded. “It does,” she agreed.
“I have to go.” Lily rose from her knees, her movements slow as if she, too, were hurting. “Nate’s vulnerability is the stone. Take it from him.”
“The what?”
“The stone. I heard him talking about it, and I know it’s critical, but I haven’t found it and I don’t know what it’s for. But it’s clear that it’s a source of great power. If you find it, take it. Use it against him.” She pushed her hair out of her face. “That’s your only chance.”
Ana nodded, her fists clenching in determination. For the first time, she had a goal, a target, a possible way out. “I’ll find it.”
Lily smiled, a sad smile that burned with the same will to live that Ana had. “Good.”
The door opened and a heavily muscled Calydon leaned into the room. “Time’s up.”
“I’m coming.” Lily pulled her shoulders back and walked across the floor with staunch pride, showing none of the exhaustion she’d let Ana see. As she reached the door, she glanced back at Ana one last time, her green eyes seeming to urge Ana not to give up.
Then the door closed, cutting their connection. Lily’s soft footsteps faded down the hall, leaving only silence behind, silence that seemed to loom so much larger and thicker than it had before Lily had brightened the room with her friendship and empathy.
Loneliness overwhelmed Ana as the one kind voice she’d heard in the last six weeks walked away. She groaned and buried her face in her pillow, trying to suppress her tears.
I won’t let him make me cry.
She thought of Elijah, and how he’d stood his ground until the last second. She remembered the strength of his body, the determination in his gaze as he’d held her tight, the honor and courage he’d offered in the face of death. She clung to that image, to the memory of what it had felt like to have his arms wrapped around her, holding her up, protecting her. Slowly the urge to cry retreated, as if Elijah’s power as a warrior was seeping into her and giving her the courage to fight a little longer.
Ana hugged herself and stared at the ceiling. She thought about the lead Lily had given her by telling her about the stone. Her key to escaping. The nebulous chance for a miracle escape that Ana had no information about, that somehow she would have to find.
The stone.
What was it? Could she find it? And if she did, then what? Would it really help her get away from Nate?
Ana rubbed her thumb over her injured palm, over the wound left from Elijah’s weapon, and knew there was only one answer she could accept if she were to have the strength to keep on fighting.
The answer was yes.
* * *
Elijah hadn’t betrayed him.
Quinn hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Elijah’s death the whole drive to the fishing shack. Elijah hadn’t gone rogue. Not truly. He’d been manipulated into it, and then he’d shaken the compulsion and reclaimed his sanity. He didn’t have to die. Quinn wouldn’t have had to kill him, which meant that he’d gotten there too late. Again. He’d failed Elijah just like he’d failed his uncle. He might as well have wielded the blade the second time, as well as the first.
Quinn cursed and slammed his fist into the steering wheel.
Grace looked up from typing into Quinn’s satellite computer, which she’d been using to try to find information on the type of illusion they were dealing with. “That’s the seventh time you’ve punched the truck. Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I need to invade your privacy and find out for myself?”
He shot a surprised glance at her. “You were counting?” She’d been subdued since the
mjui
dream, and he knew she was worried about Ana. He hadn’t thought she was paying attention to him.
“Of course I was.” She closed the lid of the computer and faced him. “I feel your torment without even trying. Elijah didn’t betray you. That’s good, right?”
“Yeah, but since he wasn’t rogue, I wouldn’t have had to kill him. He didn’t have to die.” The truck tires spun in the mud as Quinn navigated up a steep embankment that was practically invisible in the thick fog, which still hadn’t lifted. It was almost midnight, and they were right on time to meet up with Gideon. “If I’d found Elijah sooner—”
“You couldn’t have found him sooner. You were still dead when he got killed.” Her voice was soft and non-judgmental. “And don’t lie to yourself that you should have sensed you were under an illusion when you took the trainees to the river. Whoever is doing this is strong enough to make a Calydon murder his best friend. So you had no chance.”
He shook his head. “It’s my job to be better. That’s what I do.”
“I’m so sorry he died, Quinn.” Grace touched his arm. “But you can’t blame yourself.”
“I don’t—” He cut himself off as her hand folded around his. The touch was full of kindness, forgiveness, gentleness, all the things that hadn’t been a part of his life for so long that he’d forgotten what they felt like.
Without a word, Quinn flipped his hand over and entwined his fingers in hers, as they reached the end of the access road to Dante’s shack.
Quinn slammed the truck into park, tossed the computer onto the dashboard and pulled Grace across the seat toward him. He was immensely pleased when she came willingly and climbed onto his lap. He folded his arms around her and buried his face in the soft strands of her hair.
She wrapped her arms around his head, holding him close. “It’s awful when people die,” she said. “You don’t have to lie about how much it hurts. Not with me. I know.”
He didn’t answer. He simply breathed in her scent, felt the heat of her body against his, and felt something deep inside him snap as she wrapped her arms around him and held him against her. “He wasn’t supposed to die,” he finally said, his voice gruff. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. Couldn’t turn down her offer of comfort.
“I know.” She held him tight, and pressed her lips to his head.