Darkness Surrendered (Primal Heat Trilogy #3) (Order of the Blade) (3 page)

There was no response, no spark from touching him this time. Even with skin to skin contact she couldn’t get even a faint pulse of energy from him. Her throat tightened and she lifted her head, then sucked in her breath when she saw the rest of him that the Order had finally unburied. Naked and raw, Elijah’s skin was shredded. Deep gouges, open wounds caked with crusted blood and sand... Her stomach lurched and she laid her hand over his chest... “Oh, God...”

Gideon swore, and she shot a glance at him. “You did this to him?”

“Some of it, yeah, when he attacked me.” His face was hard and unapologetic, and she dropped her gaze from his, knowing what he hadn’t bothered to say.

At least Gideon had left Elijah alive, which was more than she could claim.

The Order had been striking for over two thousand years, their mission being the single one of protecting humanity from the rogue Calydon.

Quinn might think he understood the
sheva
bond. He might think that Ana’s need to see Elijah was because she carried the outline of his brand on her arm, formed when Elijah had satisfied the death stage by offering his life to save hers.

Quinn was wrong.

It wasn’t simply the bond calling her to Elijah. It was so much more, so deep, pulling at her very soul with a fierceness she knew no one would be able to understand. It was too much, formed from a lifetime of the guilt and torment she’d been carrying.

“Quinn—” She realized suddenly that her forearm was tingling, and she looked down at her arm where Quinn’s hand had been. There was a smear of mud and blood on her arm, and it was beginning to burn her skin. Was her arm stinging because it was a reaction to Elijah’s blood? Fresh blood? Oh, no. “What happened?”

“Ana.” Her sister, Grace Matthews, stepped up beside Quinn, placing her hand possessively on the warrior’s forearm, supporting her mate. “It’s better if you don’t go in there—”

“Better for who?” God, she hated how Grace still looked at her as if she was some child she needed to protect. Didn’t Grace understand how far beyond that they were? There was no more innocent girl, no more permission for anyone to protect her. “I need to see him.” Ana shoved past Grace, but her sister grabbed her arm.

Grace’s silver eyes were haunted and worried. “Ana, you’ve been through so much—”

Ana yanked her arm out of her sister’s grasp, her heart racing so hard she could barely breathe. “Tell me where he is!” Metal doors stretched down the corridor, all of them closed, as if this had once been a prison for deranged Calydons...and since they were in the basement of the former leader of the Order, that’s probably exactly what it was.

“Let her see him.”

Ana turned toward the quiet voice and saw Lily Davenport standing near them. Ana felt tears rise in her eyes at the sight of Gideon’s
sheva
. Lily had suffered alongside Ana at the hands of Nate Tipton, the ruthless bastard who had kidnapped them both. Their shared incarceration had created a bond of friendship that would never die. There was sympathy in Lily’s eyes, and sadness, as if she didn’t know if seeing Elijah would help, but that she knew Ana had to do it. She
understood
.

Grace shook her head. “But—”

“She can handle it,” Lily said. “You can’t protect her anymore, Grace. It’s too late for that.” Lily pointed down the hall. “Third room on the right, Ana. Yell if you need help.”

Ana nodded and started running down the corridor. After having been tortured for months, Elijah had been buried for three days, only to be rescued and then locked up like some beast. If he wasn’t insane already, that would do him in.

Gideon broke from the group and stepped in front of the door just as she reached it.

He caught her by the shoulders and forced her to stop and look at him. “Don’t release Elijah. He’s too dangerous. And don’t get within his reach, okay?”

Release him? “He’s not some beast—”

“Promise me, or you’re not going in.” Gideon nodded at the faint mark on her forearm, acknowledging the connection that pulled her toward Elijah. It was his brand on her arm, and it had appeared after they’d met, locking them down as soul mates and starting the process of bonding them and pulling them inexorably to their demise. “I know you want to help him, but you can’t. It’s too dangerous. He tried to kill me, and I’ve been blood bonded with him for five hundred years. You’ve done only one stage of the bond with him, and it’s not going to be enough to keep you safe from him. Do you understand?”

She saw in his eyes that he wasn’t going to yield, and she nodded impatiently, willing to say whatever it took to get in to see Elijah. “Okay, okay. Just let me in.”

Gideon narrowed his eyes as if weighing the veracity of her response, then he dropped his hands from her shoulders. He shoved the deadbolt aside, then used both fists to muscle the door open, his shoulders flexing with the strain.

The minute it was open enough for her to squeeze through, she eased through the door and into the cell. Then she saw Elijah, and tears stung the back of her eyes. “Oh
, Elijah
.”

They had laid him out on a steel slab and locked him down in padded steel wrist and ankle cuffs. He was unconscious, his body limp and defenseless. They’d strapped him down like he was a monster. On that slab, he’d been imprisoned and stripped of all his abilities to defend himself, laid out at the mercy of anyone who would come after him. He was trapped, just like she’d been at Nate’s, just like he’d been when Frank had so mercilessly messed with his mind.

Ana felt her own panic, her own terror at the idea of being trapped again, and knew that’s what Elijah would be feeling the moment he regained consciousness if he woke up when he was bolted down like that. “You can’t lock him up again!” She started to rush across the room, and Gideon grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop.

Regret pulsed in his deep blue eyes. “Ana, we have to keep him restrained until he wakes up and we see what kind of shape he’s in. If he’s rogue, and he’s free, we’ll have to kill him to stop him. If he’s locked down, then he can’t hurt himself or anyone else, and we can buy time to bring him back.”

“He’s not rogue. He talked to me—”

“No.” Gideon directed her toward a folding metal chair, far out of Elijah’s reach. “You’ve never seen a rogue Calydon, Ana. There’s no stopping them.” His eyes flared. “You know the legend of the
sheva
bond. It makes a male go rogue, and with Elijah already insane, he has no tools to resist it.” He shoved her down in the chair. “If you care one bit about him,” he challenged, “you’ll sit there and not put him at risk. Got it?”

Ana bit her lip as the cold metal pressed against her legs. God, Gideon was right. There was no way she would risk endangering Elijah. He’d already suffered enough because of her. “Yeah, okay.”

“Good. Sit with him, so we can head upstairs to the war room to make some plans. Don’t touch him, just come get us if anything goes wrong, okay? But don’t get within his reach.”

She nodded numbly, horrified by the huge thick links of metal around Elijah’s wrists and ankles, binding him to the steel like he was a wild beast.

Gideon’s hand went to her shoulder, his touch soft. “Try talking to him.” His voice was sympathetic, and she knew he could feel her horror. “Maybe you can reach him when the rest of us couldn’t. The
sheva
bond is incredibly powerful, even at the early stages. Maybe you can do more than I think.”

“Yeah, okay.” She made a noise of acknowledgement in the back of her throat, and she was barely aware of Gideon leaving, his quiet murmurs at Grace’s worried inquiry, and the sound of footsteps fading as everyone left.

All she could concentrate on was the male stretched out before her.

Elijah was still covered in dirt, as if the Order hadn’t dared to take the time to clean him up, but there was a heavy blanket draped over him and a pillow beneath his head. His shoulders were bare, making her think that they hadn’t risked trying to get him clothed. Her heart ached for the indignity of being strapped down, left naked and dirty.

This was a great warrior, a man who had saved thousands of lives during the last five hundred years, reduced to being treated like some horrific criminal, a beast. Tears filled her eyes for the fate that had so cruelly stolen Elijah from the life he deserved.

Some of his wounds had opened, and he was bleeding profusely from several places. A thick bandage was around his right biceps, but the blood was oozing through that already. How could he still be hurt? Calydons healed so quickly. Was he so far gone he couldn’t even heal himself anymore? “Oh, Elijah,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

His head was turned toward the side, and she felt her heart break when she saw his eyes. They were closed, but they were gouged and scarred, as if he’d tried to claw them out himself. Dear God, what had he been through while Frank had tortured him? Had she done this to him when they’d both been in the tunnels? Was this because of her as well?

The muscles in his neck were twitching, as if he were having a nightmare. God, she knew about that. The front of his throat bore a long scar, still raised, angry and red.

The scar from when he’d died at her hands.

There was nothing left of the powerful, confident warrior who had scooped her up and held her against his strong body to protect her. He was now beaten. Destroyed. Because of her. Her body began to shake again. “Dear God, Elijah, I’m so sorry—”

His body lurched and suddenly he began to move, trying to lift his arms. “Gideon!” Ana leapt up, her heart racing. “Get down here! He’s waking up!”

Elijah’s muscles went rigid, and he tried to bolt upright. The restraints kept him down, and he unleashed a bellow of unearthly terror, a scream that raked anguish right though her soul. “Oh, God, Elijah. It’s okay. No one’s hurting you.” She edged closer to him, aching to ease his pain and his terror.

He screamed again, and then he seemed to snap completely. He went into a frenzied panic, fighting the restraints. The blanket fell to the floor, revealing a body that was ragged and bare. She heard the crack of his bone splitting, and she saw his wrist crumble from the force of him trying to break free of the restraints. “No!” She raced across the room and threw her arms around his neck, trying to ease his panic. “There’s no threat,” she shouted. “It’s over. It’s just me.”

He screamed again, his body bucking and raging as he struggled to get free. She heard another crack, and felt the snap as one of his ribs broke under the chest restraint. “Oh, God, Elijah!” Frantic now, she leapt onto the slab and threw her entire body over him, trying to use her own weight to hold him down. He convulsed beneath her and she pressed herself against him so her lips were against his ear, tucking herself as tightly as she could against him.