Absolute Surrender (52 page)

“Welcome to your worst nightmare,” Týr added.

Christ, she really hated him.

A blast reverberated from deep inside the caverns. The air shimmered. Someone grabbed her, and they jumped through the portal and into Hell.

***

“No!” Aethan’s terrified roar resonated through the cavern, his heart shuddering in pain. He grabbed Echo as she staggered into his arms, a red stain spreading over the chest of her light blue sweater. “What did you
do?”

“The b–bullet—” She struggled to answer. “—made to kill you. Couldn’t let him...”

He laid her on the floor and tore open her sweater. Blood gushed out of the hole in her chest saturating her bra. Frantically, he clamped a hand on the streaming wound and tried to stem the flow as he sent his senses into her body. Scanning her injury, he found where the bullet pierced her lung. It rapidly filled with blood. Her heart stuttered as it struggled to beat.

“Damn you, Echo. Stay with me.”

The blue healing light from him traveled through her body and coalesced at the puncture in her lung, but still it continued to bleed.

She coughed. Blood trickled down the side of her mouth. “I’m so—c–cold—” she whispered. Her body jerked, going into shock. Her eyes glazed over as the glow in them dimmed.

‘
Dammit, Michael
!’
he shot through their telepathic link. ‘
Where the fuck are you
?’

No answer.

“Hang on. You have to hang on.” Aethan shrugged off his coat and covered her. “You are not leaving me. You hear me?”

‘
So bossy,
’
she said through their weakening mind-link. ‘
Love you—always.
’

The anguish in him grew. “Gods,
Echo
!” he cried, as the vibrant light in his soul that was all her started to fade. Her eyelids closed.

Michael appeared in a shower of silver sparks. He knelt beside Echo and took over the healing. A pure white light radiated from him and entered her.

Echo lay motionless as he worked. The seconds turned to minutes. Then Michael dropped his hands. A sheen of perspiration covered his tanned face.

Aethan stared in disbelief at Michael’s pained expression, his rage growing. Fuck him, if he gave up so easily. He sent his psychic energy back into her body, but her heart lay quiet.

“
No
!” The sound of his voice thundered through the grotto, sending rocks crashing to the ground.

Aethan wrapped her heart with his energy, his hand over her left breast. Using all the power in him, he shocked her. Her body convulsed off the floor then lay still.

He tried again.

And again.

Someone touched his shoulder and muttered meaningless shit to him.

He shrugged him off. Violence tore through him, his mind fracturing. The cave glowed brightly, his powers ricocheting off against the walls. Rocks broke off and rained around them. Nothing registered but the pain ravaging him, like being cleaved into half while his guts were ripped out.

Through a haze of tears, he swept Echo’s body into his arms.

“Dammit—what the hell are you doing?” Týr bellowed, grabbing his arm.

Aethan shoved him aside. “If she has to die, then I’ll die with her!” The next minute a blinding flash lit the cave and he disappeared with his mate.

CHAPTER 35

Kira broke free of the horror that held her in its grip.
Echo
!
Echo...her friend was dead.
Her gaze fixed on Neal. She lunged for him but strong hands held her back.

“Will you stop fighting me,” Týr snarled in her ear.

“He killed her! He killed my best friend,” Kira cried, inhaling a choppy breath.

Neal watched them with a smirk on his face, despite the fact that Dagan twisted his arms behind him. “I didn’t want her to die, but still she got what she deserved. Bitch thought she was too good for me,” he sneered. Then a sly look crossed his features. “By the way, how’s your grandma? The bump I gave her heal yet?”

At the thought of him hurting Gran, too, Kira’s scream of rage filled the cavern. She tore free of Týr, grabbed the dagger off his belt and, like a whirlwind, lunged for Neal. And plunged the obsidian into his belly. “Rot in Hell, you bastard!”

Neal stumbled back as Dagan released him. He glanced down at the dagger in his gut.

“No
,” he cried hoarsely. Pulling out the blade, he clutched at his bleeding stomach and staggered toward her. “I’ll kill you.”

“Touch her and I’ll make you scream,” Týr said. He shoved Kira out of harm’s way. “Then I’ll make you wish for death.”

Dagan grabbed Neal’s arms again. “Stupid human.”

“What do you want done with him,” Týr asked Kira, removing his obsidian from Neal. He wiped it on his tee and slid it back into the sheath on his belt.

“He wants to play with
demoniis
? Then leave him here to rot.”

***

Aethan took form at the foot of the Catskill Mountains. A velvety dark sky surrounded them. He sat on a rock, Echo cradled in his arms, his coat covering her. He wanted to hold her for one last time before he joined her. He pressed his lips to hers. But at her cold, unresponsive mouth, his tears fell faster.

“We never did have a chance, did we,
me’morae?
I can’t feel you anymore. It’s empty inside me. I’d give my life to look into your eyes again, but that’s not going to happen. I’m never going to see your smile...see you.”

Brushing her hair off her face, he stared absently at his glowing hands. He just wanted a life with her. The time he’d had with her came down to a heartbeat in his life span—

Michael appeared opposite him. “Don’t do it.”

Aethan ignored him as the glow in him brightened. “I lived for three millennia in darkness and pain. Then I found Echo. My peace. My happiness. I refuse to live without her. Thank the Heavens, Michael, you never have to suffer the agony of having the one you love taken from you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like these last moments alone with my mate—”

“Listen.” Michael’s eyes swirled with power so intense, Aethan stopped. “Listen,” he said softly again. Then the Archangel flashed out.

What? Listen to what? All he cared to hear to was the sound of Echo’s laughter, her voice. He brushed his hand over her hair, then brought her cold fingers to his lips, and stiffened.

His eyes narrowed, his hearing honing in...a faint sound tugged at him. He looked at Echo lying so still in his arms as hope fluttered back in his chest again.

Oh, Gods, please
.

***

Echo awoke to unbelievable serenity embracing her. She had to be dreaming. She breathed in slowly, relieved to find the intense pain in her chest had disappeared, just intense warmth remained. This must be what peace felt like. Soft and tender, like a hug, it wrapped around her.

She tried to swallow but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Water. She needed water. Pushing off the bed, she wobbled, then her legs gave way and, abruptly, she sat again. A sense of déjà vu flooded her.

She glanced around, confused. Where was the familiar cascade of navy curtains and bank of windows? Instead, an enormous window dominated one wall, framing a picturesque view of several trees shrouded in pale yellow blossoms.

The rather spartan room she’d slept in contained just a bed, flanked by a bedside table, on which stood a drinking glass and a single candle-stand.

The rays of warm sunlight poured over her from the window, making the walls in the room glimmer, as if millions of tiny little stars were embed in them.

Smoothing the material of the white T-shirt that hung down to her thighs, she stopped when she saw her hands. She was transparent. She could see right through her body.

Her heart jolted. What the hell—

Wait, if she could sit on a bed, she shouldn’t resemble an apparition, right? Jeez! She needed a pin. Surely, that would wake her from this dream—or nightmare.

She snatched the candleholder from the bedside table. Next to it was a tall glass with pale green liquid inside it. She eyed it suspiciously. Definitely, not drinking that.

Pulling the candle off the stand revealed the tiny stabilizing spike. She stabbed her finger with it.

“Owww
!” Crap! That hurt. She stuck her finger in her mouth. So why did she resemble a specter if she could still feel pain? Where the heck was she?

“Ah, so you’re up?” an amused voice said.

Her head snapped up. She barely noticed the loose black pants or the tunic he wore. The glow surrounding him was too intense, and she turned away to give her eyes a chance to recover. But the image of him remained.

Tall, so tall. Incredibly stunning—it was as if a master artist had finely tuned the sculptured lines of his striking face. Black hair fell in a shimmer down his back merging with black wings that looked as if their tips were dipped in fallen snow.

His silver-specked amethyst eyes blazed so brightly, they made the white walls around her look dull. “Go ahead, have your drink. It will nourish and heal you, then we can talk.”

“Where am I?”

“You should be resting until the healing is complete.”

“I’m fine, nothing hurts.” She turned to him and squinted again. “Hey, can you dial yourself down? You’re damaging my retinas.”

Instantly the glow dimmed, but his amusement rippled in her like a warm caress. Echo put mental brakes on that sensation. For some reason, it didn’t feel right being turned on by this angel.

‘
I see why he fights for you.
’

She caught his passing thought and stared at him. “What? Who fights for me?” she demanded.

He studied her for a long, silent moment, then said, “My name is Marmaroth.”

She sighed. Why were men always so evasive? “Look, Roth, this is all very nice.” She waved her hand around the serene room. “But I want to go home.”

“Ah. We are back to that, are we?” A glimmer of a smile touched his eyes, but his expression remained smooth and calm.

“Is there something funny about me wanting to go home?”

“No. I simply find the way mortals adhere to nicknames rather interesting.”

She rolled her eyes. “What, no one’s called you ‘Roth’ before?”

“They wouldn’t dare.”

Echo shook her head. “Wait, what do you mean—
back to that
?”

“As badly hurt as you were by the spelled bullet in you, you created quite a stir, insisting on going home to—” He stopped. Something flickered in his cool gaze. She was suddenly glad the retribution wasn’t directed at her. “You weren’t meant to die. You were supposed to ascend to the Celestial Realm at the appropriate time. But the Fates messed up badly.”

“I don’t believe in fate.” The words felt familiar. Like she said them before. Echo struggled to hold onto her memories, but they dispersed like wisps of mist. “Why can’t I remember anything? I feel like I’m in a void, just floating. I don’t like it. Look at me.” She stuck out her hand. “I look like a ghost.”

“Ah. That’s because you hover between both realms. This is your astral form, while your corporeal self remains in the mortal world.”

“Then send me back.”

Roth waved his hand and an image appeared before her. “This should help with your homesickness.”

She peered at it and grinned. “Hey, I know this place...I think.”

Streetlights winked. The night was hot, steamy. She could almost feel the heat rising off the asphalt to wrap around her. People hustled by and a cacophony of sounds filled the streets. Greedily, she absorbed it all.

Then her attention was snagged by a lone figure. A man walked down the street, his head bent, his dark blue hair tied at his nape. Silver earrings glinted in the streetlights. The short sleeves of his tee revealed an intricate tattoo on his biceps.