Darkness on Fire Page 12

  “Now call off your dog.” Penn jerked his head toward the other Kalith. “Or I’ll kill you and go after him.”

  The Kalith barked out a command.

  His subordinate looked relieved to retire from the battlefield. Jora was breathing hard, but was unharmed. That was the only thing that allowed the two Kalith to live.

  “Both of you, facedown on the floor. Now!” he barked. “Jora, get their weapons.”

  “Penn! Is it safe to come in?” Barak’s voice called from the passage.

  “Come ahead.”

  Barak entered first, his sword drawn. Larem shoved their Kalith companion in next, his weapon at the male’s back.

  Barak surveyed the cavern. “Looks like we missed all the fun.”

  Jora shot him a dirty look. “Penn’s hurt.”

  “I’ll help him.” Larem sheathed his sword and drew his knife.

  Jora hissed in horror as he started for Penn, and immediately planted herself between them. “What do you think you’re going to do with that?”

  Penn snaked his right arm around her shoulders and tugged her against him. “It’s all right. He has some kind of weird Kalith ability to heal.”

  The three prisoners watched wide-eyed while Larem chanted softly and ran the tip of his knife along the jagged cut. Penn hissed as the blade heated up, feeling acid hot to his skin. Gradually the pain faded, and the bleeding slowed, then stopped altogether.

  When Larem finished with Penn, he used his mojo on the wounded Kalith.

  Jora was home, and she was safe. Penn had no words to tell her what that meant to him, so he simply kissed her.

  Penn’s kiss curled her toes. When he finally broke it off, he tucked her head under his chin and held her next to his heart. Tears ran down her cheeks. This disaster wasn’t over with yet, but they were together, and that was all that mattered. Right now all she could do was breathe in Penn’s essence, and judging by how hard he was hugging her, he drew comfort from the close contact as well.

  Barak finally spoke. “Penn, I hate to bother you, but we’ve got to seal this stretch of barrier and then take out this trash.”

  Penn sighed and shifted to face him, keeping Jora at his side. Barak and Larem stood over the prisoners, their swords ready for action.

  “Jora, what would you suggest?”

  “Barak and I need to close the fissure for good.” She looked to the Kalith for confirmation. “Do you agree?”

  Barak’s complexion was even paler than normal. “I do, but I have burned much of my energy in attempting to repair the other barrier that these fools have rendered unstable. We will need to split up in teams to close it for good. Penn, I’d ask the Guardian on the other side for some help. I can draw off their energy to work the stone, and I’m guessing Jora can as well. We will also need someone to stand guard over these three. Perhaps the Guardian’s Blademates can help with that.”

  Penn smiled his approval. “Sounds good. Barak, can you do the honors this time?”

  “I can.”

  He waited until Penn took over guarding the prisoners, then started the process of bringing the barrier down. It winked out to reveal a Sworn Guardian and his Blademates standing battle ready.

  Penn took charge of the situation. “Arik, we have captured those responsible for the damage to the barrier. We need your assistance, if you are willing.”

  Jora watched the male quickly assess the situation and nod. Then he and his men put away their weapons and stepped across the boundary into this world. Odd—she’d spent her whole life wishing she could meet a suitable Kalith male. Right now she was looking at several prime candidates, but they faded in comparison with Penn.

  While Penn explained the situation to the newcomers, Barak spoke briefly with Jora to make sure they were in accord on how best to resolve the barrier’s instability. They were taking a huge chance not only with their own lives, but also with those of the men supporting them. If it all went to hell, there was no telling what kind of destruction would rain down on both worlds.

  Barak gave her a quick hug, winking at her when Penn glared at him, then they outlined the plan. He’d take half the men to the second site the Kalith renegades had been using. Since cell phones didn’t work near the barrier, Larem would wait outside the passage until Barak called to say they’d reached their destination. It was a bit intimidating when the remaining men looked to her for guidance, but she drew courage from Penn’s unspoken support.

  “When the time comes, you’ll need to line up in a half circle behind me. You don’t have to do anything but stand still, although you may feel a bit strange when I start pulling energy from you.”

  The Sworn Guardian approached her. “I am Arik, a Sworn Guardian of Kalithia. Jora b’Larth, it will be our pleasure to serve you.”

  “You and your Blade do me honor.”

  As she nodded at each man in turn, she noticed Penn frown. He motioned for her to follow him into the passage. Once they were outside, he spoke to Larem.

  “We’ll wait for the call. You can go back in.”

  His friend surrendered the cell phone without question and disappeared back inside. Jora waited until he was out of sight to speak.

  “Penn, what’s wrong?”

  He cupped her face in his callused hands. “We don’t know how this is going to turn out. I know you’ll give it your all, and that scares me. Use us up if you have to, Jora, but don’t burn yourself out.”

  The bright moon bathed them in its silver light. Penn smiled down at her, his eyes warm and loving. “We’ll all do what we have to, but I didn’t want this to go down without telling you that I love you. I think I have from the second I looked up and saw you standing there in the diner.” He brushed his lips across hers.

  Her heart almost burst from happiness. “I love you, too, Penn Sebastian. Now and for the rest of my life, whether it’s measured out in minutes or decades.”

  Their kiss was filled with heat and love and desperation. Then the cell phone rang, and the rest of the world came rushing back.

  Chapter 15

  Penn had never experienced terror like this. Jora stood at the front line of their attack on the unstable barrier. If disaster struck, she would bear the brunt of the backlash. He hated—hated—knowing there was nothing he could do about that.

  But she was a warrior in her own right, even if her weapon was a magic he couldn’t see and didn’t understand. When she glanced back at him one last time he smiled his reassurance, hoping it was enough.

  Jora began to chant. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Arik on one side and Larem on the other; the hair on his arms and neck stood on end as her voice increased in volume. He could feel her demand for more power pounding in his head and pressing on his chest, making it almost impossible to breathe. If it was this hard on a man his size, what was it doing to her?

  But there she stood, her shoulders back, her head held high as she called on her special abilities to save the world. The barrier was streaked with sickly colors and small tears. One of Arik’s Blademates collapsed from the strain, but the rest of them stood firm.

  The rift ripped through the barrier, burning bright enough to light the caves in both worlds. Arik dropped to the ground without a sound, followed quickly by Larem. That left only Penn to keep Jora grounded as she started to waver. With all the strength he could muster he took a step forward, reaching out to put his hands on her shoulders.

  Energy sizzled through his feet from the rock below, ripping up through his body and out the palms of his hands to Jora. Her chanting increased in volume and strength. Small jolts of lightning crackled along the boundary line, leaving the clean burn of ozone in their wake.

  With a loud crack, the rift exploded in a burst of sound and light. Jora’s head snapped back, and her knees collapsed. Penn managed to break her fall before he joined her in a heap on the floor.

  Someone was groaning, and there was a hundred-pound rock sitting on Penn’s chest. No, not a rock. A woman. His woman. Jora. Was
she—? He cut that thought off immediately. Instead, he concentrated on remembering how to make his hands work. One finger twitched, then a second. Finally, he lifted his hand up enough to touch Jora’s sweet face.

  Her skin was warm. Good. He rested his fingertips on her throat, feeling for a pulse. Thump, thump, thump. Very good. His hand dropped back down, his energy spent.

  Jora moaned again, then lifted her head. “Did we do it?”

  They both looked toward the barrier, which was humming along, happy and healthy.

  Penn was too tired to smile. “It looks good to me. We’re not dead, and the world hasn’t been destroyed.”

  She rested her palm on the floor of the cave. “The pressure is gone.”

  It took a while for them to recuperate enough to get up off the floor of the cave.

  Penn offered Larem a hand up, and then Arik. Both were tired but otherwise unharmed. Their three prisoners weren’t so lucky. The one Jora had fought with was unconscious and unresponsive, while his buddy was clearly dead. So was the third one.

  Larem knelt down to see what he could do for the lone survivor. “He won’t make it.”

  Jora looked sick. “I didn’t mean to kill them.”

  Larem stood. “I’m guessing that it wasn’t anything you did, Jora. I suspect their energy signatures were tied to the rift. The backlash killed them when the rift disappeared.”

  Penn didn’t know if Larem was right or not, but he was grateful for the man’s attempt to ease Jora’s mind.

  “Arik, when Barak gets back from the other crossing with your other men, we’ll send you home.”

  The Sworn Guardian nodded. “That would be a good thing. I think I could sleep for a week.” He held his hand out to Jora. “You have done our people a great service. If you ever have need of my sword, you only have to ask.”

  “Thank you, Sworn Guardian.”

  “Call me Arik.” The male’s smile held too much warmth for Penn’s comfort. “If you would ever like to visit your homeland, I would be honored to serve as your escort.”

  Jora shook her head. “I’ve seen enough of other worlds to last me a lifetime. Besides, I’m planning on making my home wherever Penn is.”

  “He is a lucky man.” Arik held out his hand to Penn. “The offer of my sword extends to you as well, Paladin.”

  “And mine to you, Sworn Guardian.”

  Barak came limping in, supporting Arik’s Blademate. “He’s fine, just tired. Let me rest for a bit, and I’ll send them home.”

  Jora said, “With Penn’s help, I should be able to do it.”

  She reached for his hand and began chanting. Just that quickly, she created a pathway for Arik and his men. They slipped through, dragging the three casualties across as well.

  “Their deaths will serve as a warning to others who seek to do evil as they did.” Arik saluted them with his sword as the barrier snapped back into place.

  Many hours later, back in their motel room, Penn said, “Jora, I have to go back to Seattle.”

  She lifted her head off his chest and glanced at the clock. They’d been asleep for over twelve hours. “When?”

  He toyed with a strand of her hair. “Sooner rather than later. For one thing, I have to take Barak and Larem back to Seattle.”

  Her pulse sped up. Where did that leave the two of them?

  Penn held up his right hand and flexed it. “My wrist is stronger than I thought it was, but I believe this is as good as it’s going to get. I’ve been afraid to admit that before now, because I didn’t think there was any kind of life for me other than swinging a sword.”

  He smiled down at her. “But because of you, that’s all changed now. And I owe it to my friends in Seattle to tell them in person that I’m going to be moving here—if you’ll have me.” His hand stroked up and down her back. “Will you marry me and build a new life with me, Jora b’Larth?”

  She heard his heartbeat, strong and steady, as she laid her head on his chest again, and knew his love was just as steady and true.

  “I can’t think of anything I want more, Penn Sebastian. Forever.”

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  “Are you hurt?” He held his hand out to brush her hair away from her face, but jerked it back when she flinched at his touch.

  Fine. Her response pissed him off royally, to quote his roommate, even if he understood why she felt that way. The sooner he got her topside the better. “Come.”

  Sasha shrank away from him. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

  He ignored how much her reaction hurt. He’d always known she’d hate him when she finally saw him for what he really was. “Right now what I am is your way out of here.”

  She retreated another step. “But where are we going? The elevators are back that way.”

  He snagged her arm before she gave in to panic and glared down at her. “So is the fighting, Sasha. Too many from both worlds are already bleeding, so you’ll understand if I’d rather not kill any more of my people. Now, follow me or not. It’s your choice.”

  He let go of her, hating the fear in her eyes when she looked at him and hating himself for his part in putting it there. Then he walked away, stopping long enough to retrieve his blade before moving on. Surely she’d show the good sense to stay with him. If not, he’d force the issue, but he hoped she’d at least trust him enough to get her to safety.

  • • •

  Sasha stared at the four broken bodies fallen on the ground. So much blood. Its bitter copper scent filled her head and overloaded her senses. Her stomach churned, foul acid burning the back of her throat. God, would this nightmare never end? It had been hours since she’d last eaten, so it was nothing but dry heaves as she leaned against the wall and retched.

  Please, let it stop. She needed to follow Larem even if he was one of them—Kalith, Other, the name didn’t matter. If she lost sight of him, her life might very well end right there in the bloody passageway. She tried to straighten up between heaves, but that only made the pain worse. After stumbling forward a few steps, she had to stop and close her eyes to ward off the dizziness.

  As she did, she felt someone beside her and panicked. “No, please no! Get away!”

  “Sasha, calm down. It’s me.”

  She sagged in relief at the sound of Larem’s deep voice. Despite everything, he hadn’t abandoned her.

  “Hold still and don’t fight me.”

  His accent was deeper than usual, but his voice was far more gentle than it had been only seconds before. His hand, cool and soothing, rested lightly on her forehead, and his arm slid around her waist, supporting her weight.

  He murmured something. The words were unclear, perhaps in his native tongue, but their effect was miraculous. The nausea disappeared almost immediately, as did the cramping. When he removed his hand, she looked up into his pale gray eyes.

  “Better?”

  She nodded. “Much.”

  The chill came flooding back into his gaze as he stepped away and retrieved his sword. “Now, let’s get out of here.”

  She glanced back toward the other end of the passage, careful to avoid looking at the bodies along the way, and then followed Larem around the corner. He was moving fast enough that she almost had to run to keep up with him.

  She had so many questions for him—now that her brain was starting to function again—but she suspected she wouldn’t like his answers. Like, why had he let her think he was human? She’d known there were Kalith living among the Paladins, but no one had even hinted that they had the run of the place. Was he even supposed to be down here?

  Now wasn’t the time to worry about it, not when her life depended on him. He
r eyes strayed to the bloody blade he’d wielded with such skill and terrible grace. Would she ever get over the horror of seeing four lives ended right in front of her? Or the knowledge that she’d come so close to being—no, don’t go there. What might have happened didn’t matter right now.

  Larem came to an abrupt halt. “Quiet now. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. Wait until I make sure the way is clear.”

  Sasha froze, her ears ringing with her ragged breath and pounding heart. Gradually, other sounds began to make sense. Horrible sense. Swords banging and clanging. Screams of pain and whimpers of agony. Larem progressed a few feet, holding his sword out to the side as if expecting to be attacked.

  Finally, he motioned her forward. “Don’t look.”

  But of course she did.

  The ground was littered with bodies. She watched as a line of Paladins formed up. They slowly pushed forward, forcing the ragged band of Others to retreat back across the barrier. Men in guard uniforms were busy dragging the dead and wounded Paladins back out of the way, leaving the Others where they’d fallen.

  Larem drew back beside her. “Sasha, snap out of it! We’ve got to get the hell out of here. Those guards might not hurt you, but they’ll come after me given half a chance. I do not want to die because of your stupidity.”

  Okay, enough was enough. “It wasn’t my stupidity. Lonzo left me a note telling me to meet him down here.”

  “Like hell he did. He had car trouble and didn’t get back until just before the barrier failed.”

  “But—”

  “That’s enough!”

  Larem all but dragged her along until finally he stopped outside an elevator. As soon as she saw the number pad next to it, her heart sank.

  “Larem, my code won’t work. We’re trapped down here until Devlin sounds the all clear.” Her voice went up an octave as she spoke; the thought of spending another minute trapped in this hell was unbearable.

  Larem was already punching numbers into the security system. “This one will work.”