Black Gate: Timewalker Chronicles, Book 4 (24 page)

A nasty looking blue-green I.V. hung over his head. It looked like whoever set it up was pumping moldy pond water into the top of his skull, where, with his head and neck restrained, he’d have no chance of removing it. A dagger stuck halfway out of his chest, and looked as if someone had wanted to stab him thought the heart and changed their mind with the job half done.

The chains were almost exactly like his brother’s, but these were bolted to the floor of the cage instead of the walls, and he had an extra metal band across his forehead. He couldn’t even move his head. And there wasn’t much slack in the chains. She doubted he could lift his arms or legs more than a few centimeters from the bed.

Soft guitar music played from an old-fashioned six-disk CD changer in the corner and a slide show played on the wall at the base of his bed. The photos were an odd jumble of objects. Children. Soldiers wearing uniforms she didn’t recognize. Beautiful, smiling women. Lots of gorgeous scenery she’d never seen before with either two moons hanging in the sky or a sun that looked more white than the yellow in the distance. The sky was blue, but a darker, more vibrant and vivid than Earth’s sky. That must be Itara. The picture changed every few seconds and she assumed it ran in a continuous loop.

Good God. What was this place?

Despite the chains, or perhaps because of them, she stayed back, well out of reach. He looked like an even bigger disaster than the last male, the one who’d bitten her, and she was still hurting from that. She’d learned her lesson. “Ajax?”

His eyes opened instantly and when he turned his head to face her, she wished he hadn’t.

He was Triscani. His power filled the space and pressed on her, made it impossible for her to stand. She slid into the chair and waited for what felt like the crush of pulling four of five G’s in one of the Casper Project’s jets holding her in place to pass.

There was nothing in those eyes but malice and rage. And she didn’t think this version of the twin package would apologize if he bit her. God, she hoped she was wrong.

“Ajax?”

“Yes.”

She let herself hope, just a little. He looked like hell, but he sounded normal. And she’d be pissed too, if she’d spent hundreds of years in chains. “I’m Katherine.”

“I know.””

“Could you please stop crushing me?” The pressure eased but his gaze roamed her body hungrily. Not with a man’s appetites. More like a spider watching a fly. It gave her the creeps.

“Pull this dagger from my chest.” The chains rattled as he tried to lift his hands.

Katherine wanted to help him. Saving people was what she did. But everything about this situation made her instincts scream at her to run. The coldness of his voice, the rage in his eyes, the chains, the pain of Aron’s bites still twisting through her shoulder and neck. She wished she could have asked Teagh about this man. Wished Raiden hadn’t confirmed her worst fears. Wished for a lot of things she was never going to get, like another kiss from this man’s tormentor.

“Why is Teagh keeping you here?”

The King didn’t answer her and a strange black steam began to rise from his flesh like he was freshly cooked pasta. The smell made her choke and she stalled, whispered a warning to the dark tendrils hovering anxiously outside this prison that she might need to leave in a fat hurry.

Maybe Teagh had done the world a huge freaking favor by locking him up. Raiden said he was humanity’s only hope, but what did Raiden truly know about this King? Raiden was supposed to be from the future. How could he know what had happened to a King missing for centuries in the past?

Heresy? Rumor? Legend? What he was told. That was all. She still believed Raiden’s heart had been in the right place, but had to assume that, even if the Itaran prince was standing next to her, he wouldn’t make a move for that dagger either.

“Release me, human.” The pressure started building again. Katherine figured the only reason he hadn’t crushed her already was because he still needed her help to escape. Was there anything worth saving left inside this former King? Anything at all?

“Do you even remember what you were before?” Katherine wanted to cry. This was sad. So damn sad. And her back hurt, her heart was broken, and she’d betrayed Teagh, left him behind because she’d believed the lies this Triscani evil had whispered to her in the dark. God, he’d sounded so earnest, so broken and desperate. Raiden believed in him. Mari told her that Celestina had been looking for him for centuries.

Evidently, Bran, like Teagh wasn’t above keeping secrets from those closest to him.

She’d blamed Teagh and refused to trust him because he’d locked this creature away, when she should have listened to her gut all along. The Immortals called Teagh the Guardian of the Gate. He’d told her he was Guardian to three worlds.

Finally, she believed him, but she wouldn’t get the chance to tell him. Not before Ajax tried to kill her.

Katherine’s body obeyed the King’s command, despite the fact that her mind didn’t want to. She walked toward the “Lost King”, and forced down hysterical laughter at the irony of his title. He was lost all right. He’d lost his soul to the dark.

“I’m so sorry.” Katherine whispered, and was relieved when the psychic pressure pounding through her head lessened a bit more. It was like trying to time a wild tiger who’d been shot and cornered, and possessed by a demon. He seemed appeased at her approach, confident that she would do his bidding in the end and free him. Arrogant.

She called to the Gate, softly, like a whisper. It answered, sensing her need for stealth, and sent a tendril through the doorway she’d created. The tiny splinter of darkness was no thicker than a human hair. It slid along the floor, out of Ajax’s sight, to wrap around her ankle and make a direct connection.

She didn’t dare direct any words or commands at the dark. The being in the bed was a strong telepath, as he’d proven when she’d first found him. She’d idly thought at the time that he could squeeze her brains into mush without touching her. Now she was convinced that he could.

Teagh. She focused on an image of him for a flash, less than a second. The Gate understood and the tendril retreated back the way it had come. She ignored it, focused on the dagger sticking out of Ajax’s chest. She didn’t want to touch it.

“Ahh. Teagh. Where is my most trusted friend and his brother?”

“I don’t know. I left them behind when I discovered that he had you here.” God, she hoped that little dark thread hurried. She needed help if she was going to get out of here alive, and she wasn’t too proud to ask for it. Not anymore.

Humble pie tasted like ash on her tongue.

“Remove the blade.”

Out of options, Katherine stepped forward and wrapped her right hand around the hilt. She pressed her left palm flat on his chest for leverage. “This is gonna hurt.”

“Yes, it is.”

Katherine realized her mistake too late. Skin-to-skin contact with a Triscani was bad news.

Pain lanced up her left arm as he pulled her essence from her. Killing her? Turning her into a pile of ash?

She looked down into dark green eyes clouded by insanity and shoved the dagger through his heart, buried it so deep the back of the blade hit the bed beneath him. He didn’t even flinch.

Ajax sneered at her when she pulled her hand away from his chest. All traces of the blood from the other Immortal’s bites had vanished. Her palm was black and shining, like liquid obsidian. And the darkness was spreading. The slash marks across her back seemed to come to life, burning and wiggling beneath her skin to crawl toward her hand.

“Go now, human. Go and bring your lover back to me so he will release me from these chains.” Ajax laughed as she dropped to her knees. The wounds in her back made her muscles spasm and pulled her body into a contortionists dance. She fought the urge to cry as she crawled toward the door.

The Lost King didn’t try to stop her, so she took a chance and called the Gate. Dark tendrils wrapped around her body and lifted her from the floor. The moment she was past the entrance, the Gate closed the hole it had made in Ajax’s cage and sent it back to whatever mystery place it had occupied before she’d found it.

But the pain in her back and arm remained. Where was Teagh? Perhaps he hadn’t forgiven her for running again. Or maybe his refusal to make love to her had been real. Maybe he didn’t want her at all. And if that was true, what would have changed in the last few hours? Nothing.

Everything hurt, and she had nowhere to go. Nowhere to call home.

Home. She just wanted to go home.

She curled into a ball and waited. Hoped.

Sobs escaped when she felt strong, familiar arms lift her and cradle her like something precious.

“No more running, Kate.”

Her answer was to slide her arms around Teagh’s neck and let him take her wherever he wanted to go.

Chapter Twelve

Teagh left Katherine in Mari’s capable hands and joined Bran and Raiden in his living room. Bran looked grim. Raiden, curious. All Teagh felt was ice-cold dread. He didn’t want to leave Katherine’s side, but this couldn’t wait.

“Ready?” Teagh asked the question and both males nodded. “Let’s do this. No one touches his flesh. Raiden, do not remove your gloves at any time, even if he appears to be unconscious. If he gets away from us, we’re all dead.”

“Got it.” Raiden pulled the thick leather gloves on that Bran handed to him. They were black, and went past his elbows. They looked ridiculous, but touching a Triscani with bare skin was suicidal on a good day.

Teagh checked his own gloves and nodded to Bran, who opened a portal. “I can take the three of us, but when it’s time to move him, I’m going to need some help. I can’t pull four, and the Gate likes Katherine more than Teagh these days, so I’m going to need your help, Raiden.”

“No problem.” Raiden assured him. “I’m the only one who knows where we’re taking him anyway.”

Teagh grunted agreement and nodded at Bran. “Let’s go.”

Bran stepped through first, followed by Raiden, and Teagh brought up the rear. In an instant they all stood at the foot of the Lost King’s bed.

“Gods be damned. I’m going to kill that fucker.” Bran walked to the side of Ajax’s reclined form and pulled a blade from the King’s heart in one swift tug. “Sorry, My Lord.”

Ajax didn’t make a sound when the blade was removed, but Teagh noticed his dark gaze focused on the new visitor they’d brought. He had to admit, if he and Bran had been the only company he’d had for centuries, anyone else would be welcome. “My Lord.” Raiden acknowledged the King but kept his attention on the chains. He was probably wondering the same thing Teagh was…how the hell they were going to pull this off.

“What are you two doing here again? You are not welcome. Take your fucking pictures and your music and bring me Katherine. She was sweet to taste. I want to finish what I started with her.”

Teagh nearly choked. “What are you talking about?”

Ajax laughed, and the sound sent a shiver down Teagh’s spine. “I accepted her blood oath, of course. And tasted her soul. She’s very noble, Teagh. Very strong. She could last for weeks.” Ajax shifted on the bed and the chains rattled all around him. “I could make her my Queen.”

“She’s mine.”

“After I kill you, Teagh, I will take her. Fuck her. Hurt her. Make her mine.” Ajax laughed again and Raiden looked from Bran, who had moved to stand above Ajax’s head, fiddling with the Triscani poison that dripped in the I.V., back to Teagh.

“You won’t touch her.”

“I will summon her often.”

Teagh felt his control faltering. There was something in the King’s eyes, something so twisted and desperate that Teagh believed him. He’d use a blood oath to summon his Kate through the darkness to his side.

“Shut up, Ajax. We’re not going to kill you, no matter how big of an asshole you are right now.” Bran’s words deflated Teagh’s anger like a pin popping a balloon. He’d been stupid. Bran was right. This was not the first time Ajax had tried to force their hand with threats and psychological manipulation. And he couldn’t blame his old friend. He wouldn’t want to live this way either.

But when he tried to force them to kill him, it only confirmed for Teagh and Bran that there was something deep inside the King that wasn’t completely lost. When he tried to die, they were more convinced than ever that the King could be saved.

“We’re sorry about Droghan’s visits, Ajax. We didn’t know.” Teagh apologized, even though he knew Ajax wouldn’t believe him.

“Yeah, well, we’re moving you so that bastard can’t find you and hurt you again,” Bran added.

“Take my head or leave me in peace.”

“No.”

“Damn you. Just end it.” Ajax rattled the chains again and Teagh felt overwhelmed with sadness. Here was one of the greatest males ever born, and he was reduced to this, to begging in chains. To insanity and heartbreaking loss.

“We can’t do that, brother. I’m sorry.” Bran’s soft apology weighed heavily in the air as Ajax groaned in pain, then went limp. Teagh’s eyes ached and he blinked back tears. Ajax said the same thing every time, every week when he or Bran would visit. Twice a week for centuries he’d begged to die. But, according to Celestina, if Ajax died, the world died with him.