“If you’re as smart as I suspect, you’ve probably used your gift to figure out where I am,” he said.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Have you told your friends?”
“No,” she lied.
“Good. I’ve got a deal for you. It’s simple, really. Even if I kill Damian, I’ll have to deal with all his people. However, if I have you, I’ll beat them at every turn. If you come to me right now, I’ll let him go.”
“Swear on your soul?” she asked. Her heart beat so hard, she could barely make out his response.
“Love, I don’t have a soul. By the time Dusty figures out what to do, Damian will be dead. In fact, if you refuse me now, I’ll kill him before I hang up the phone.”
She closed her eyes, shaking.
“If you agree, I’ll free him when you show up at my doorstep.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’d give you anything for him.”
“You have an hour.”
He hung up, and she stared at the cell then looked to her car. The door was open as she left it, the keys in the steering column. Jule and Dustin reached the building, and she looked at them.
Czerno would never let her go. If she went to him now, she’d spend eternity with him, a slave to the Black God himself. The truth settled into the pit of her stomach, along with the realization that she meant what she’d said—she would do whatever it took to free the man she loved.
Dustin met her gaze, and he froze.
“Sofia, no!”
She bolted to her car, far enough ahead of any of the men that they couldn’t stop her. She flung herself in, slammed the door, and locked them. Peeling out, she floored it and tore down the road. The dead vamp’s memories were fresh in her mind, and she sought the sights he’d passed.
Her phone rang, and she snatched it.
“Sofia, turn around. Now,” the calm male’s voice ordered.
“No, Jule. He’ll kill him if I don’t go.”
“He’ll kill him if you do.”
Her tears rose, blurring her vision. She struggled for control, focusing on the road.
“Sofia,” he said more gently. “Please.”
“Stop,” she begged. “It’s my fault he was caught. I can fix it. I can fix it!”
“You can’t fix a war that’s been on for hundreds of thousands of years.”
“I have to, Jule. I’m sorry. The world needs him,” she said. She hung up the phone, gripped the steering wheel hard and drove.
She followed the vamp’s fleeting directions. The staging area was where the vamp remembered it being, tucked at the base of a mountain in a draw. Sofia swallowed hard at the sight of so many vamps milling around. She drove up to the elevator entrance on the side of the draw. One vamp in particular seemed to be awaiting her and strode to the car when she rolled to a stop.
He waved her to exit, and she did so, her hands shaking as she opened the door. The other vamps didn’t so much as acknowledge her as she stepped from the car. Her greeter motioned her to follow, and she obeyed, her mind on Damian and nothing else. He led her into a small, grey elevator that plunged quickly to the depths beneath the mountain.
The underground world was well built and bright with whitewashed walls lining corridors wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Her apprehension grew as the vamp led her down a maze of hallways through scores of other vamps and past multiple doorways. He reached a set of double doors. He opened one, and she entered. The study beyond was a replica of the one in Virginia, down to the Gothic hood on the fireplace.
Damian was nowhere to be seen. Czerno rose from a desk as she entered. The large man in black with lopsided shoulders and an executioner’s hood pressed himself into a corner. The man with verdant eyes stood beside him, watching her. The Black God approached her, and she stepped back.
“I did what you asked. You said you’d free him,” she said.
At Czerno’s chilled smile, she knew he had no intention of freeing either of them. Panic swelled within her.
“Welcome home, love,” he said.
She whirled, but the vamp that had led her into the underground lair blocked the doorway. She sucked in a breath, struggling to calm herself.
“Czerno, free him! You have me!”
“I’d rather kill two birds with one stone,” he said. “Two, take her.”
“No!” she breathed. “Please no! I’ll do whatever you want! Please, just let him go.”
“We’ll talk later, love,” Czerno assured her. “You’ll have all the time in the world to beg me, on your knees and on your back.”
His gaze swept over her in cold admiration as he spoke. The executioner from the corner emerged from the shadows and took her arms.
“Let him go! Please!” she shouted as he pulled her from the room.
Hysteria gripped her, and she fought him until he slung her over his shoulder. Tears blinded her.
“Damian!”
Sofia. His voice was weak, as if he were far away. She strained against the man again.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobbed.
The man in the executioner uniform dumped her onto a familiar surgical table in a room that stank of blood.
She screamed and launched off of it. He slammed the door closed, subduing her hysterical strikes with unexpected gentleness until she lay strapped to the cold table, weeping. When spent, she lay still, willing sleep or death to take her. Neither did. She closed her eyes to the ceiling. Eventually, she ran out of tears and lay spent on the table, mind on Damian.
Her stomach growled again. She’d starve in a day.
The shadow named Two emerged from the corner. She’d forgotten his presence, but he peeled off one glove to display a scarred forearm and hand. As she watched, he took a knife and sliced his wrist. She twisted her head away as he dripped the blood over her lips. He snatched her head with his other hand, then held her nose closed as she clamped her mouth shut. When she gasped for air, his blood trickled into her mouth. She started to spit it out but stopped.
She knew this man.
Though his blood didn’t ensnare her as Damian’s did, it tasted familiar. She drank, and he lowered his wrist to her lips. His memories flashed as they made contact. He knew nothing beyond the past twenty-four hours. His first memory was of waking up then of everything he’d done for the day.
He moved away when she ceased drinking, back to the corner. She twisted to stare at him. He was Damian’s size, though by his lopsided shoulders and scars, he’d survived some sort of serious injury. He was lean and wiry compared to Damian’s bulky build.
“Who are you?” she demanded, sensing she was missing something important.
He didn’t answer, settling in his corner.
She lay still, the man in the corner so silent she had to look several times to make sure he was still there. Renewed by the blood, more sobs wracked her body as she thought of Damian and how badly she’d destroyed any plan Dustin or Jule could make.
“Damian,” she whispered. “Forgive me. I should’ve let you make love to me.”
Panic and tears soon drained her of energy, and she stared listlessly at the bloodied ceiling until the man in the corner stirred. The door behind her opened, and Czerno stepped in, trailed by the older, silent gentleman with bright green eyes.
“Still alive,” Czerno observed, walking around her. “Two, let her walk around for an hour every twelve. I don’t want her muscles turning to jelly.”
Czerno trailed a finger down the side of her face, his chilling smile and the onslaught of visions making her gasp. She glared at him, hate in her gaze. She would never give this man the visions he wanted!
“I’m blood bound.” She forced the words out. “If you kill Damian, I’ll die.”
“I’ve got something almost as good as him,” Czerno said, motioning to the man in the corner. “According to my source of information, a blood relative can sustain an Oracle marooned without her master. We’re going to test this. Either you’ll die or you won’t.”
“I’ll never help you!”
“I have eternity to break you, Sofia. I’m in no rush, though I do have a plan to motivate you. It involves removing your body parts, one at a time. Or maybe peeling your skin off? Maybe fucking you ’til you scream will soften you up a bit. We’ll see what works, won’t we?” He lowered his head to her ear. “I have options. You don’t. Trust me. Everyone breaks.”
Terror washed over her at his calm, controlled words. She’d seen what he was capable of in his visions. The best she could hope for was eternity on this table, alone, knowing what she’d done to humanity’s defender. She started to cry again.
Czerno circled her again and ran his hands down her body, stepping away in approval. He left with a satisfied chuckle, trailed by the man with green eyes. The sound of the door closing sounded like the sealing of her fate.
“Forgive me, Damian,” she whispered again.
Two freed her a few hours later and let her walk around the room. He stood in front of the door, unmoving as she explored her surroundings. The room was empty aside from the table. There was one vent in the ceiling, not large enough for her hand let alone her body. Despair washed over her, but she forced herself to concentrate.
Damian wasn’t dead. She felt it. If she could only reach him …
She faced Two, the only thing between her and escape. He was a puzzle, a man with no memory beyond waking up in the morning. The rest was blocked, as if a dam was placed there. She paced and stared at him.
… a blood relative can sustain an Oracle.
She’d heard no such thing, but then again, she didn’t know anything about Oracles aside from what little she’d gleaned from books and testing herself. His theory was so far correct. Her stomach was content, and she hadn’t thrown up. She approached Two hesitantly. He didn’t move as she stopped in front of him. She took his hand. He obliged and removed his glove, rolling his sleeve to his elbow and withdrawing a knife. Though she wasn’t hungry, she drank, exploring the black curtain shielding his memories as she did.
He pushed his sleeve up farther, revealing the bottom of a thick bicep with a partially visible tattoo. She slid her hand up his arm and nudged the sleeve. The image on his bicep was the same she wore around her neck.
Images flooded her mind, Damian’s, Claire’s, Isac’s. She saw Damian watch the new king get his tattoo as a rite of passage, saw it again as Claire made love to the man meant to be her husband, saw it in Isac’s vision as he hacked the tattooed man apart. The man hiding in the corner of her mind, he whose death plagued Damian for thousands of years.
Darian.
She staggered back, the visions cementing in her mind, overwhelming her. She tripped, and her head snapped back. Two caught her before she hit the ground. His stunted memories collided with the others running through her mind. His honey-colored eyes were visible in the harsh lighting of the room.
“Darian!”
His pupils dilated. He placed her on the table and retreated, shaking his head and swiping at the air around him, as if plagued by bees.
“Darian,” she repeated.
Kiri, answered the tortured voice of the man in her head.
Seizing control of himself, Two stepped forward and pushed her back, binding her to the table again. Her hope soared, and she watched him return to his corner.
“Your name is Darian. Your brother is Damian. You were born two years apart. You were supposed to marry Claire …” She went on, closing her eyes as she repeated everything from the memories of others.
He didn’t move, didn’t respond. She spoke until she was hoarse. Her hope flagged, and she cried then tried again. She spoke until she drifted into an uncomfortable doze only to awake when he released her. Cramped, she stretched before approaching him again. She pulled the necklace from her neck.
“Look,” she said and touched his bicep.
Mechanically, he rolled his sleeve and pricked his wrist. The curtain blocking him from his memories was less defined, like ice beginning to thaw.
“This is who you are,” she said, holding up the symbol. “Your name is Darian. Your brother is …”
She started over, talking until he bound her to the table once more. But he showed no sign of life as he took up his position in his corner, and desperation crept through her. She cried and kept talking, her sentences punctuated by sobs. At last, she stopped speaking and lay, exhausted. If there was a way to make him see what was in her head … to make him remember … she focused on Damian’s memories, the ones before the dark age, when he and his brother were happy.
“Hungry,” she whispered.
Two obeyed and moved forward, slicing his wrist for her again. As she drank, she replayed Damian’s memories over and over.
Damian needs you.
“Kiri.” His hoarse voice threw her off guard.
“Think, Darian, think,” she said. “Do you remember your brother Damian?”
An image flashed, that of Damian chained to a wall. Tears formed in her eyes.
“Yes,” she choked out. “Damian. Your brother.”
“Don’t cry, kiri.” He was struggling. She replayed the home videos, closing her eyes and focusing. If he were like his brother, he would hear her thoughts.
Two returned to his corner. She kept the movies playing, focusing on nothing other than the brothers’ time together. She drifted into a doze.
“Damian,” Two said, waking her.
“He needs you,” she whispered. “He’s in trouble.”
“Damian in trouble,” he repeated.
“Yes, Darian.”
“Don’t cry, kiri.” He fell into silence again for several hours. When he freed her again, she approached him and touched his hood.
“Remove it, Darian.”
He didn’t respond. She touched his arm, replaying the videos. After a brief mental tug-o-war, he pulled off the hood with one hand. His face was as deeply scarred as his hands. His hair was brown rather than white-blond, his beautiful eyes deep set and large. She took his face in her hands the way she had Damian the night he wanted to destroy the world and forced him to meet her gaze. His honey gaze was still.
“Damian needs you,” she whispered. “He’s in danger. I love him, Darian. Please help us.”
“Damian.”
She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him, her own memories of Damian forefront in her mind. She replayed their first kiss, his ring, the way his men spoke of him. She showed him Czerno - his master - and the darkness in Czerno’s mind. She dropped to her feet and moved away.
“Kiri.” His eyes were closed as he said the word.
“Your name is Darian. Your brother is Damian.” She touched her hands to his cheeks again. Emotions rippled across his face. “Please, Darian, please. You can do this.”
His eyes opened, and he met her gaze. For the first time, she sensed he was aware of her and his surroundings. His golden eyes swirled.
“Remember,” she said, holding up the necklace.
“Two!” Czerno pounded on the door. She waited. The life died from Two’s eyes, and he replaced his hood.
“No. No, no, no!” she shouted, pounding on his chest. Sobbing, she dropped to her knees. Two stepped aside. Czerno entered.
“Congrats. You’ve survived two days. Looks like I was right,” he said, satisfied. “Two, put her on the table. Kill Damian and come back when you’re done.”
Sofia tried to push him away as he lifted her onto the table. There was a tug at her neck, and she touched it, surprised to find the necklace gone. Two left, the necklace dangling in his hand. She sensed his deep confusion. He took the symbol with him for a reason, even if he didn’t fully understand what. Her sudden flicker of hope died when Czerno spoke again.
“As soon as he’s done, we’ll start working on you,” the Black God promised. “Start thinking of which way you want me to fuck you first.” He closed the door behind him with a cold laugh, not bothering to bind her.
She curled on her side and wept.
I love you, Damian. Please forgive me!
***
Two had never heard kiri cry so hard. Her heart was breaking. He walked through the halls quickly, the emerging thoughts in his head baffling him. He couldn’t remember what the master had ordered him away to do. Something about Damian, the man who made kiri cry. All he could see in his head was kiri sobbing and the dreams she’d made him remember. They weren’t good dreams, and the ones she showed him weren’t the only ones in his head. Every step he took brought more memories of people and places he felt to his core he knew – but couldn’t recognize.
“Don’t cry, kiri,” he said in a ragged voice and gripped his head.
He didn’t know what to do. His master was hurting her. Why didn’t she go back to his head, where she was safe? Why did she come to see him? He took care of her and fed her and let her walk around. Every time he freed her, he hoped she would return to his head. But she didn’t.
Damian. Darian.
The images she’d put his head made him stagger and fall against the rough wall. The chain around his hand bit into his finger, and he looked at it. It was kiri’s. He rolled up his sleeve, staring in wonder at the tattoo on his bicep. He didn’t remember how he got it, and he doubted it’d been there before kiri put it there hours before.
Damian needs you. Please help him, Darian. He was Darian, eldest son of the White God.
The dreams bombarded him faster now. He looked around him and at the necklace in his hand. He was going to Damian. If he freed Damian, kiri would go back to his head, where his master couldn’t hurt her.
Two went to Damian’s cell and opened the door. Damian was still and silent, but he wasn’t dead. No, the master had been waiting to kill him, had been feeding Damian the same juice Two stopped drinking. Damian was chained to the wall so he could be force fed what looked like fruit punch. Two had helped force feed him, before he knew kiri loved him. Damian was the strongest man Two had ever met.
As Two gazed at Damian, another flash of images driving him to his knees. His gaze fell to the silvery ring the man before him wore. Two pulled up his sleeve. Damian had a symbol like his on his ring. He lifted the chain, kiri’s chain, and looked at the identical marks, struck by the idea that he somehow belonged to the same world they did.
Two released Damian from the bonds and lifted him over his shoulders. He made his way through the crowded halls, grunting under the weight of the man. He followed a familiar path through a narrowing hall and looked at his palm for the three codes written in green ink there. Three doorways, three codes. The walk was familiar, though he didn’t recall ever taking it before.
He took Damian outside to the rock where he and kiri had watched the stars once long ago and set him down. He gripped his head, which pulsed at the flood of images and kiri’s own sobs.
“Don’t cry, kiri,” Two said.
He knelt over Damian and pulled the ring from his finger. He placed the necklace in Damian’s hand and closed it gently.
“From kiri,” he told the unconscious man. “She loves you, and she’s sorry.”
He turned and made his way through the doors he suddenly remembered traversing many times the past few days. And now that he’d done what she asked and saved Damian, he would return to kiri to convince her to return to his head, before his master killed her.
Two’s chest clenched at the thought, and he was afraid. He didn’t want kiri to die. She was his. She was all he had. As he stumbled through the halls, he heard the alarms blare.
He had to hurry.
***
Alarms sounded a few moments before the doors exploded off their hinges.
“What did you do?” Czerno roared in an inhuman voice.
Sofia darted off the table, staring at him as he entered, trailed by Two and the man with green eyes. The man with green eyes leaned over to Two, whispering to him. Two bowed his head, and the green-eyed man was gone in a sparkle of light.
“How did you free him? How did you alert them?” Czerno demanded, snatching her arm so hard she cried out.
“I’ve been right here!” she said, shoving at him and his black memories.
His backhand sent her world reeling. Fire lit up half her face, and she tasted blood in her mouth. She landed hard. He kicked her in the stomach, and she gasped. Czerno snatched her arm, his other hand raised for another blow.
“Master, they’ve penetrated the perimeter!” a voice shouted from down the hallway. The Black God looked from her towards the direction of the voice. He pushed her down and stepped over her, striding quickly to the door.
“Two, bring her,” the infuriated Black God ordered. Two obeyed, lifting her off the floor and carrying her. She gazed up at him as he followed Czerno, looking again for some sign of life in his still gold eyes.
“Darian,” she whispered. “Please, Darian, come back to me.”
He didn’t even look at her, and her hope plummeted again. They stopped in a small command center, where one wall displayed monitors.
“Now!” Czerno barked.
Jule’s face materialized on the screen. Czerno snatched Sofia and dragged her close, the visions making her stagger.
“Where’s Damian?” Jule demanded.
“Get your men out of here!” Czerno ordered. “Quickly, before I kill her!”
Fire tore through her, and she cried out. It increased, the sensation of frying from the inside out.
“Stop,” Jule ordered. “Dusty, order a withdrawal.”
The fire burned hot enough to devour Czerno’s dark memories.
I’ll protect you, kiri. The voice in her head came from Two. Czerno released her, and she fell, her body seizing in agony.
“Czerno! We’re pulling out!”
“Cut it!” Czerno snarled. He kicked her as he passed. Jule’s face disappeared from the screen, and the pain eased. Unable to move, she panted, body convulsing with aftershocks from the attack.
“They don’t have him! He’s here, somewhere! Find him!” Czerno ordered.
His vamps scampered out of the command center to obey. He stalked to her again and dragged her up. The man with the green eyes was suddenly behind him, watching her.
“I don’t give a damn if he escapes. I have you,” he growled. “Two, take this bitch to the helo-pad. We’re evacuating.” He hit her one more time, and she careened against Two, caught between consciousness and darkness. Two lifted her and carried her into a hallway teeming with vamps.
Damian was free! The thought pierced her thoughts, and she sagged against Two, not caring if she survived or not. Two took her down a quieter hall and set her down. She doubled over, pain from Czerno’s attacks crippling her.
Two knelt over her. He held Damian’s ring in front of her face and then tucked it into her jeans. He cocked his head to the side, as if listening to someone.
“Yes, master,” he said to no one she saw.
She closed her eyes, in too much pain to concentrate. He touched her, and familiar warmth flashed through her, easing the pain. Two pulled her to her feet. Sofia stared up at him, not daring to hope he’d help her. He stalked down the hall. She watched him, tempted to run away, before realizing the amount of activity in the halls behind her guaranteed her capture.
She jogged after him with great effort as he strode through the maze. He emerged into a busier hall and waited for her, taking her arm and leading her through the vamps. They passed through the activity unscathed before he started down another hall. The alarms faded, and the halls grew cruder, unfinished. Sofia followed him as the halls angled up and narrowed until Two had to walk through them sideways. He reached a door finally and typed in the access code. It opened. They passed through two more doors before exiting into a cold desert night on the side of a mountain, overlooking the activity at the elevator’s entrance.
Sofia almost cried in relief. Two continued walking, finding a narrow path in the dark and starting down it. She followed, shivering. The path wound its way downward, dumping them into a draw far enough away to be safe. Two walked on once he reached the desert, and she trotted after him, looking back at the floodlit entrance to the elevator. Gunshots streaked around the entrance. A massive explosion went off, shaking the ground beneath them.
She stopped and stared, throat tightening.
“Damian,” she whispered.
Two took her arm, driving her onward. When assured she’d follow, he released her and marched on into the desert, away from the mountain. A sense of familiarity hit her as they neared a clump of rocks. She’d seen it in Pierre’s future. The images she’d seen the night of the Quarterly replayed in her mind.
Pierre unloading his shotgun on the man in executioner’s garb from Czerno’s. It was dark, cold, and the shots hit the man with lopsided shoulders, dropping him dead to the ground. An explosion blazed in the distance. A woman was screaming, another man shouting.
The Guardians were here, ready to take the shot that would kill Darian. Urgency jarred her out of the memory, and she launched forward.
“Pierre, no!” she shouted, running past Two.
He snatched her as she passed, but not before she heard a shot and felt fire burn through her. She was driven back against Two, who caught her. Warm blood splattered her neck and face. She cried out in pain.
“Let her go!” She recognized Pierre’s voice.
Two lowered her, pulling up his sleeves to fight.
“No!” She barked and snatched his shirt.
“Fuck, Pierre!” Dustin snarled. “Sofia? You okay?”
“I’m … okay,” she said, suddenly dizzy. “Dustin, don’t shoot him, please! Please!”
A dark shape moved from the rocks while three more fanned out from the sides. Two strained against her grip and tensed. Sofia held onto him as if his life depended on it and shook her head to clear the dizziness.
“Darian, lower your head,” she ordered. The man beside her hesitated and then obeyed. She yanked his hood off.
“Dusty, Jule’s got him!” Rainy shouted triumphantly. “I’m calling the choppers.”
“Fast,” Dustin ordered. “The vamps are heading this way.”
She twisted her head to see the jumbled outlines of the small army of vamps running toward them from the direction of the burning mountain. A flashlight blinded her. She held up her hand.
“Mon dieu!” Pierre said then cursed in French.
“Holy shit,” Dustin breathed as the flashlight rose to Darian’s face. “Holster ’em! Now!”
He moved forward, stopping to stare at Darian.
Pierre dropped beside her, muttering. Sofia sagged, exhausted. Before she started to drift into an in-between place, she saw Darian stand and look around, awake for the first time in thousands of years.
Dustin’s face was a mottled mess of emotions. Darian eyed him warily, not recognizing him, before he knelt beside her again. Heat scorched through her and she gasped, fully awake once again.
“You can see the stars, kiri,” he said in his monotonous, mechanical voice.
“I know, Darian. You did good,” she managed.
“Rainy, where’s my chopper?” Dustin shouted, drawing his weapon again.
“Looks like we should start running, non?” Pierre asked.
Sofia pushed Darian’s hands away. Though she was fatigued, her wounds were healed. Pierre hauled her up.
“Pierre, carry her. We’ll run,” Dustin said.
I’ll protect you, kiri, Darian said into her mind. Before Pierre could comply with Dustin’s order, Darian shoved him aside and swept her off her feet.
They ran to the next nearest group of rocks, where a handful of four-by-fours waited. Darian placed her behind Dustin and climbed behind Rainy. Sofia wrapped her arms around Dustin and squeezed her eyes closed as the engine roared to life. Sand flew as they soared and leapt through the desert. The distant beat of a helicopter’s wings drew closer as they raced away from the mountains. A chopper landed ahead of them on a wide, flat mesa.
Dustin braked hard and swung his leg over the handlebars.
“Sofi, go! Rainy, Lon, with me!”
Sofia shielded her eyes against the wind and sand. She hopped off the four by four, reached out to Darian and grabbed his hand, pulling him with her. His world was one of confusion, his memories overwhelming as the dam that had been in place for thousands of years crumbled. Darian held his head, and she wrapped her arms around him, wishing she could protect him from the dark memories breaking free.
I’m scared, kiri.
“Hold on, Darian,” she whispered, tears blurring her vision. “I’m here.”
He showed her a picture of where he’d taken Damian.
“Thank you, Darian!” she cried.
I’m scared, kiri, he said again into her head.
She felt his fear and squeezed her eyes closed, the man in her arms colliding with the man hiding in the corner of her mind. They became one, and this time, when she reached out to him, he took her hand. She sobbed, absorbing the black visions spilling through his mind. Thousands of years of Czerno’s depravity threatened to consume him. She was his only relief, and the visions threatened to consume her.
Peace, Oracle.
She didn’t recognize the voice in her mind and felt the presence of someone—or something—beside her. A hand swept the dark memories from her mind, and she sagged against Darian, feeling the same sense of peace overtake his mind.
“Master, I did as you said,” Darian said in a choked voice. “I saved kiri.”
Good boy. Be at peace tonight, both of you. The being left, but the peace remained. Darian began to cry, and she held him tighter.
The chopper landed. Pierre hopped out and helped her and then Darian. They were at another discreet location, this one nestled between the peaks of two mountains. She darted off the landing pad with him, and the chopper went up again. The men on the small base drew their weapons at the sight of Darian. She took his arm, terrified they’d shoot the lost soul. Pierre led them to the empty, well-lit helicopter hangar, where several men crowded around a still body on the hangar floor. Her heart flipped when she saw him, and she sprinted forward.
“Damian!”
He was unconscious and pale. She dropped to his side and fluttered kisses across his face.
“Jule, what’s wrong with him?” she asked, twisting.
“Poison,” Darian croaked.
Jule’s arm shot out to block the interloper’s progress toward them. His mouth dropped open, and disbelief crossed his features. She hopped to her feet and shoved Jule’s arm away, pulling Darian to the ground beside her.
“Darian, what is it?” she demanded. “Please tell me!”
He held his head and leaned into her, struggling. She took his face in her hands again, forcing his attention on her.
“Please, Darian!”
“Claire’s … blood,” he said at last.
“Claire … was meant to be his Oracle,” Jule said hoarsely. He knelt beside them, staring at the horribly scarred man. “It’s your blood, Sofia.”
Horror descended upon her as she realized the depth of Claire’s betrayal. Darian crouched beside his brother, studying him while emotions flew across his features. He placed his hands on Damian’s face. Damian’s body bucked. Darian moved away. Damian rolled onto his side and puked blood into the sand.
Sofia touched him, heart rejoicing. Dazed, Damian sat up.
“Kiri is safe,” Darian said in a monotone voice.
Damian’s head whipped around. The two brothers stared at each other, and she choked back a sob, joy and horror flying through her.
“Everyone out.” Damian’s voice was soft, but his command made everyone in the hangar jump. Jule pulled her to her feet and half-carried her out. He gripped her arms and turned her to face him. His gaze was unusually intense as he struggled to control his emotions. Jule embraced her, hugging her hard. She clung to him, overwhelmed.
“Here I thought I’d lost two people I cared about only to recover three,” he said, hoarse. “If you weren’t D’s, I’d kiss you.”
“Jule! We need to go!” Pierre’s voice urged.
“All hell is about to start raining down,” Jule said, pulling away from her. “Go with Pierre. Rainy wants to chew your ass out for dragging Traci into this, and then I’ll chew your ass out for being so fucking stupid.”
He wiped the tears from her face and kissed her forehead.
“Go,” he said, pushing her toward her awaiting bodyguard.
“Bring them both back to me, Jule,” she whispered. He gave a brisk nod.
“Sofia!” a female voice cried. Sofia turned, surprised to Traci racing toward her from across the helipad. Traci flung her arms around her, her fear fresh on her face. Sofia hugged her back.
“Two women,” Pierre muttered.
“Pierre, get ‘em outta here,” Jule said with a toss of his head in their direction.
“Gladly. Come with me, ladies.” Pierre gripped each of their arms and led them toward two black Tahoes. Sofia twisted to see the helo-hangar one last time, not yet able to believe the night’s events.