Demon Slave (38 page)

She yelled for Wren when she was close
enough for him to hear. His wide eyes found hers. She’d never seen
him look so maddened.

Confusion splashed across his face. The
rebel at his front tried to take advantage of the brief distraction
and leapt forward, but Wren was too good and his blade swiftly cut
him down.

All the breath in Nadua’s lungs escaped her
when she saw a small body lying on the ground behind Wren. An arrow
was protruding from it.

He was defending Ava. Was she still
alive?

Heavy footsteps at her back alerted Nadua to
a problem of her own. Someone was chasing her. Wren’s eyes sparkled
as he waved her forward with the slightest tilt of his head.
Picking up speed, she went to her knees, using her momentum and the
packed snow to slide smoothly under Wrens sword—in mid-swing.
Whoever had been behind her cried out and landed with a hard thud,
coupled with a pissed off gurgling sound.

Without looking back—she
knew Wren was taking care of it—Nadua slid all the way to Ava. Her
expression was shocked but her eyes were open and she was still
breathing.
Thank the gods!
But the arrow was so close to her
heart.

Nadua leaned over her. “Ava?”

Ava looked at her and, of all the things to
do, she smiled. “You’re here.” She sounded weak.

“
Yeah, I’m here.” Nadua’s
tone quivered. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

Ava shook her head. A bead of blood rested
at the corner of her mouth. “You’re not late. My last wish was to
see you again.” A line of tears drifted down her cheek.

“
Don’t say that.” Nadua
cursed, blinking back tears of her own. “You’re not
done.”

“
They were waiting for us.”
Her voice softer now.

“
I know. Shh.” Nadua felt
helpless. Ava couldn’t die.

Please gods, don’t let her
die
.

The battlefield went quiet
as the ground began trembling. Nadua lifted her head to see
Marada’s
massive body,
hovering in the sky.

The ice shafts had gone still as well. Nadua
shifted her gaze to see Sonya standing over a bloody pile of
bodies, her eyes wild, monstrous. In one hand she gripped the white
strands of a severed head, and a sword dangled in the other.

Nadua was impressed.

Heart rate spiking painfully in her chest,
Nadua recalled the end of her vision, only now it was her leaning
over Ava, not Wren.

It was too late though. Tamir’s arm wrapped
around her neck, the cold edge of his sword pressed to the crook of
her throat. Wren flipped around, sword high, but she knew there was
nothing to be done.

Damn it! Not only did she not save Ava, but
she’d gotten herself killed as well. Marik’s beautiful face flashed
in her mind. Her last wish? To have told him that she loved
him.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Marik
was racing toward them, his eyes ablaze, his fangs lengthening.
Marada had landed, and many of its inhabitants had joined the fray.
A wall of rebels and some of her own traitorous soldiers put
themselves between the enraged demon and their little group, but he
was slashing his way through them.

Tamir whispered loathingly in her ear, “Time
to clean away the muck.”

“
You will never survive
this, Tamir,” she said to buy time. “You see that demon right
there? If you hurt me, he is going to make your death very
painful.”

“
He’ll never make it this
far.” He forced her to look toward Marik. “Look at all the wounds
he’s taking. The barbarian isn’t even blocking them.”

Tamir was right. Marik was no longer paying
attention to those around him. He was focused on one thing—getting
to her—while those around him repeatedly stabbed at him.

“
Fight them!” she screamed.
A sob bubbled in her throat.

Tamir hollered in pain. Nadua flinched in
surprise, and managed to turn her head. Ava had inched toward them
and planted a dagger in his foot. Tamir kicked out, knocking her in
the jaw.

The move threw him off balance.

Wren launched his sword like a spear,
piercing Tamir’s neck straight through. Before he fell, Nadua
reached up to take the hilt, ripping it out with a satisfying tug,
then tossed it back to Wren.

Marik was still fighting. Blood stained
every inch of his clothing.

Wren took command of Ava, placing pressure
on her seeping wound. Nadua raced for Marik, all the way screaming
for him to defend himself. His gaze was only for her. She saw the
pain and panic behind the fiery depths.

Before she could reach him, a small group of
rebels moved to block her. Marik’s threatening roar made them jump
and avert their gaze to the enraged demon. Nadua watched, horrified
as he ignored his attackers, pushing forward with all her might as
they hacked at him.

Her heart was ready to burst through her
chest, but her body took over where her mind delved into hysteria.
She thrashed her sword at the closest menace. Unsheathing her
dagger, she launched it at the second rebel. It landed in his
forehead just as the first slid to the ground, releasing her blade
from his chest. The third had run off before his companions had hit
the snow.

With the arrival of the large ship and their
Kaiylemi down, the smartest of the rebels had started to
scatter.

Marik finally broke through the thinning
line of men, and Nadua caught him just when his knees gave out. His
wounds were bad, deeper than she had imagined.

At some point, her hood had fallen away, but
Nadua could hardly bring herself to care about the wind whipping
her cheeks. Not when his eyes were hollow, lost.

“
Baby, look at me.” She
splayed her hands on his jaw, directing his line of sight. “Love!
Look at me.”

He did then, his vision coming into focus.
Marik threaded his fingers through her hair and crushed her against
his chest. His heart was pounding fast and strong. At last, she
lost control. Tears started flowing and she dug her nails into his
back. He was going to be okay.

“
Marik, we have to help
Ava. She’s hurt.”

Reluctantly, he let her go and helped her to
her feet.

Most who remained on the field were their
allies, crowding around to get a hopeful peek at their fallen
queen, sorrow etched in every movement.

Wren was comforting Ava, wiping her cheeks
clean of blood and tears. His eyes were rimmed in red and she was
coughing blood. Nadua knelt beside them and took her hand, unsure
what to do.

In the distance, Sonya cursed in another
language. Then she let out a grating, “I’ll be fine. Leave me
alone!”

Nadua turned to see Sonya approaching, Ethan
by her side, trying to get a look at a deep slash across her
torso.

“
Ethan!” Nadua yelled.
She’d nearly forgotten about his powers. “Ethan, come here, I need
your help!”

Ethan rushed forward. “Are you hurt,
Princess?”

“
No, Ava is. Please help
her.”

Ethan joined them on the ground. “I’ll need
someone to pull out the arrow.”

Sonya moved. “Got it.” Without warning, she
reached down and gave it a hard yank.

Ava screamed, clutching her chest.

Nadua tackled Wren to keep him from
launching his big frame at Sonya.

“
What are you doing?” he
screamed at them.

Ethan placed his hands over the wound.

Light sparked under his palms, growing
brighter with every breath. Around them, the drifting flakes of
snow paused in midair, slowly melting and forming into droplets of
water. As Nadua lifted herself off Wren, the droplets collided
against her, clinging to her hair and face. Time around them seemed
to slow down. Wren’s eyes were wide, and she was sure he had no
idea what was happening, but he remained where he was.

After helping Nadua to her feet, Marik
placed himself at her back and wrapped his arms around her.
Together, they watched Ethan work, shielding their eyes as the
light became painfully bright. The air grew heavy.

When it was over, the light dimmed and Ethan
leaned back.

Ava sat up, confused and holding the spot on
her chest that was now healed. She looked up at Ethan. “Thank
you.”

Ethan nodded.

“
That was amazing,” Marik
breathed.

Nadua turned in his arms. “Do you need him
to heal you?”

Shaking his head, Marik gave her a
meaningful look that stole her breath. “That’s what I have you
for.” Then he bent to place his lips against hers. The passion of
it exploded through her.

She leaned in to deepen the kiss before
pulling back. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

His expression turned wary.

But before he could say anything, she
blurted, “I love you. And there is no way I’m letting some
magic-obsessed Serakian try and take you away. You belong to
me.”

Marik blinked twice, his face frozen in
shock. Nadua’s heart skipped a beat, waiting for his response. Then
he gifted her with the most brilliantly wide grin, filled with a
kind of boyish exuberance she’d never seen in him before.

In a flash, she was back in his arms, feet
off the ground, with his lips claiming hers in fevered kiss that
branded her to the bone.

Nadua sat in the
Sanctuary,
Marada
once again en route to the planet Earth.

After the battle, Ethan had healed as many
as he could. For some reason, and maybe it was because of his gift,
he could touch the Cyrellian’s skin without any problem.

It was assumed that one of the disloyal
guards had freed Tamir. Most of them had been killed or ran off
with the rebels, but Nadua feared there might be more traitors
still living within the palace walls.

Tamir was confirmed dead but, unfortunately,
Nakul was still missing, perhaps plotting another attack.

Ava understood what it really meant to be a
queen now, to risk everything for her people, even if there were
those who didn’t appreciate it.

And this time, when Nadua said goodbye, they
knew it was for good. Nadua needed to look toward her own future,
and think of the Faieara.

Marik returned to working in the galley, and
Nadua was given the task of looking after the Sanctuary. Pruning,
trimming, planting. It wasn’t a difficult job, but she loved
it.

She’d experienced one more vision of Ava,
but it didn’t reveal much. Only that at some point, Ava would
venture into the Caves of Lost Souls.

Shortly after they left, Sebastian had sent
a transmission to the Serakians, noting that their services were no
longer required. They’ve yet to receive a response and there was no
way of knowing if the message had gotten through. They would know
for sure in a few days, when a Serakian was scheduled to show and
work her spell. Nadua kept a dagger with her at all times, just in
case the witch tried.

Nadua had moved into Marik’s room and their
physical relationship put the heat of a thousand supernovas to
shame. It was like Marik was attuned to her every need and her
darkest desires.

One thing continued to bother her, however.
Nadua had told Marik she loved him, but as of yet, he had not
verbally returned the sentiment. It shouldn’t matter. His actions,
and the look in his eyes told her it was so. But still...

Done with her tasks for the day, Nadua made
her way to the pub.

Sonya had eventually allowed Ethan to heal
her, slapping away his hand directly after.

A vision of Sonya’s past gave Nadua insight
into the animosity between them. Ethan reminded her of the men who
had brutally murdered her father. Sonya had been but a child,
hiding by her father’s orders and made to vow not to come out for
anything, as if her father had known what was coming. Sonya had
spied everything through a small hole. But it hadn’t been her vow
that had kept her in place; it had been her fear.

Now Sonya sat alone at one of the tables
farthest from Ethan while he tended the bar.

To see into someone’s past was an
interesting addition to her ability, but it felt incredibly
intrusive. Analia had been able to learn to control her ability,
but was admittedly still discovering new aspects of it. Nadua kept
up hope that eventually she too would take command of her gift.

Nadua joined Sonya and was greeted with a
smile—an expression she never though she would inspire.

“
Where is Analia?” Nadua
inquired.

“
I think Bastian is still
trying to figure out a way of keeping her from breaking into the
docking bay.”