Inferno of Darkness (Order of the Blade #8) (8 page)

Dante could feel the sword summoning him.

He could hear the hum of its magic blistering in his head.

He could barely resist the burning of his palms as they craved the sword they had once touched.

But even stronger, even more powerful, even more compelling, was the taste of Elisha's lips, the feel of her smooth flesh, and the incredible strength of her spirit. She was courage. She was bravery. And she was
passion.

With a low growl, he swept his arm around her lower back, lifting her against him as he kissed her, burying himself in her presence. With each kiss, with each mingled breath, with each pulse of desire, the pull of the sword lessened, subjugated to his need for her. He didn't understand how she was making him stronger. Passion led to corruption. Emotions led to betrayal. The only path to being the great protector was to be so cold, so focused, that
nothing
could tempt him aside. And yet, the opposite was happening with Elisha.

Her kisses were innocence layered with raw desire, a combination that ignited in him the need to both protect her and to awaken her sensuality pulsing tentatively just beneath the surface. "Elisha," he whispered. "Give yourself over to me. Let us combine our power and rise together."

She made a small noise of protest, and he caught it with another kiss as he ran his hand along her thigh, pulling her leg higher on his hip. Her belly was against his erection, the soft flesh of her stomach trembling. Fire seemed to sear his veins, a need unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was as if she was his breath, the beating of his heart, and the source of his blood. His life was in her hands. His future was entangled in her kisses. His hope for all he sought lay in the heart that beat within her delicate frame.

He didn't understand how this could be happening between them. He was a man who had spent a lifetime perfecting his shields against the need for a woman, for his
sheva.
He was a warrior who'd strived to erect the steel facade that had failed all the other Order members. He did not believe in passion, warmth, or any emotion that could weaken him. And yet, something about Elisha had broken through all those protections, stripped him raw, and empowered him beyond comprehension.

With one swift move, he swept her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he carried her away from the sword to the far side of the clearing, where the only grass remained. As he set her down, easing on top of her carefully, so as not to crush her, he felt her hands go to his chest.

Not to push him away.

To touch him. To explore him. To connect.

He went still, closing his eyes, barely able to restrain himself as her fingers moved across his bare flesh. Her touch was feather-light, so gentle it felt as if she'd never touched a man before. The thought of another man with her made something shift inside him, something dark. His mind flashed back to the comment she'd made when they'd first met about becoming another man's consort. He pulled back, and she jerked her hand away from him, heat flooding her cheeks. "Sorry," she said. "I didn't intend—"

"It's okay." He put her hand back on his chest, fighting to keep his voice calm. "What did you mean when you said you're going to be another man's consort?"

A delicate furrow appeared between her eyebrows. "Yes. Adrian, one of the masters. My union with him will help secure my mother's power. She needs Adrian on her side."

Dark, ugly anger began to ferment inside him. "And you're willing to do it?"

She blinked. "It doesn't matter if I'm willing. There is no freedom in the queen's realm. I—" She swallowed, and he saw a surge of determination in her eyes. "I do what I must, but there are limits even for me. I couldn't let her destroy the earth."

He didn't understand. The earth was more important than her own body? "Why do you need to protect the earth? You don't even live here."

"I know." A softness filled her eyes, a misty haze as if she were looking past him into memories only she could see. "When I was little, one of the water faeries from the nether-realm slipped through into the queen's darkness. She told me stories of the earth, and she brought me a flower. I couldn't believe how lovely it smelled. Have you ever smelled a flower?"

He scowled. "What?" Smell a flower? Who had time to sniff a plant?

"Everything about the earth sounded so beautiful. After she described it, I dreamed of it always. It was like an oasis in my life, the knowledge that something so beautiful existed even when all I could see was darkness." She smiled and traced a finger along his jaw. "Like you," she said. "Your soul is so full of honor. I've never met anyone like you. I've never known a man with honor. That's why I came here. I couldn't let this world be destroyed, not if I could stop it."

Dante's heart softened at the awe in her eyes. He'd never looked at his world the way she did, but he felt like he could listen for hours to her spin magic about the world that had carried so much grief and death for him. "You've never been here before?"

"No, not until I came with the sword. I can't come here on my own." She smiled again, tracing one finger over his eyebrows and down his nose, as if fascinated by his skin. "The faerie helped me figure out how to merge with the sword so that I could travel with it." She laughed softly, a laugh that was like the magic of fireflies dancing on an August night. "It's ironic, isn't it? The sword that represents such destruction is the blessing that allowed me to come here. I'm connected to it now," she said softly. "Its fate is mine."

Something in her words caught his attention, and Dante narrowed his eyes. "The sword's fate is yours?"

She cleared her throat. "Yes."

"So...if I destroy it..."

She met his gaze. "Yes. If you destroy it, I die as well."

"Then we can't do it." Dante pulled back from her, cutting off their connection with cruel finality.

Elisha sat up, hugging her arms around her, but not able to recreate the warmth he'd generated. "Do what?"

"Destroy the sword." He looked at her. "You can't die."

His statement was so matter-of-fact, so absolute, that she smiled. She barely knew this man, and yet his commitment to her well-being was unshakeable. It was silly, really, that he was reacting that way, but at the same time, it was so beautiful, a gift she'd never had before. "Dante—"

"No." He stood up, his hands balled in fists by his sides. "Absolutely not. There has to be another way. How else can the sword's power be stopped?"

"There's no other way." Elisha watched him pace the clearing. His body was so muscular, so strong, so lethal, but there were also was purity and honesty in his movements. Dante did not hide who he was. He did not skulk in the shadows, ready to strike unsuspecting prey. He stood tall, proud of who he was and what he planned to do. He was everything she'd imagined existed in the earth realm. More than she'd imagined. She simply hadn't understood how good a soul could be until she'd experienced his.

"There has to be." He turned toward her, his eyes blazing. "That sword cannot be allowed to sever the veil. It has to be destroyed without sacrificing you. I don't sacrifice innocents. That's the way it is."

His commitment was beautiful, but it made her sad, because she couldn't allow him to honor it. "Dante," she said quietly. "Sometimes there isn't a way to have it all. The earth must be protected. If it requires my sacrifice, so be it."

"No! That's not acceptable!"

"It is!" She stood up, her own energy roiling. She was so tired of having others tell her what she was allowed to do. She was free now, free to make the choices she wanted. It was time for her to make the difference that she'd never been able to make. "I would rather die to save the earth, than go back into that hell and live the future that is mine. You asked about me being a consort? It's far more than that. It's not just sex I'll give him. It's all of me. My soul. My spirit. My sanity. I'll become a conduit for the power between him and my mother. My father was from the earth realm. My mother used him to create a half-breed child who she could use to reach the earth realm. She killed him as soon as she was pregnant, and she's been using my blood to feed her beasts, to allow them to cross the border and survive in the earth realm."

Dante stared at her. "You're the reason that the dark creatures walk the earth?"

"Yes, they are here because of me. If I die, she loses my blood. She loses me as a tool. Why would I want to preserve my own life at the cost of this world, when all I am is a vessel for her power and depravity?" She spread her hands to encompass the world around them, including Dante. "There's no way, Dante. Just as I was willing to use the Blade of Cormoranth, I'm willing to sacrifice my life."

"What the hell are you talking about? Just don't go back. You can't kill yourself just because your mother is a psychotic, evil—"

"I have to go back. Although I am partially of the earth realm, my connection to the queen's darkness is what commands me." She walked toward him, her voice urgent with the need to make him understand. "She owns half of me, and she can pull me back. I can resist for a while, but eventually, she will win. The sword is all that is holding me here now, but once that is no longer here, she will be able to reclaim me."

"No!" He grabbed her wrist and yanked her against him so their bodies crashed together. "So we don't destroy the sword. We use it to keep you here."

She gave him a long-suffering look. "Really? So, we do that, and then let the earth die? Is that the plan?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Fuck that. I'll save everyone."

"You can't, and you know that." She looked into his eyes, searching for a truth she needed to know. "The question isn't whether I'm willing to die, or whether you'll let me. The question is whether you're a good enough warrior to destroy the sword once it has severed the veil, or are you not strong enough to resist the lure? Because if you're not, if you sever that veil and can't destroy it,
everything
is done. Everything that matters to you, and to me."

He met her gaze. "If I sever the veil and don't destroy the sword, do you die?"

"No. I return to my world with the sword, and then the queen's darkness enters the earth realm."

He closed his eyes, and his grip tightened on her wrist. "There has to be a third option."

"Walk away from the sword."

"And let someone else try to solve this situation? Fuck that. I've seen other men try to be the hero, and fail. Again and again, they failed. Warriors selected because they alone were strong enough to resist the call of a
sheva
, to rise above the dangers of going rogue, to be cold enough to slaughter the men who were once friends in order to save the innocents. Those men, the ones who were supposed to be the strongest warriors, are all
gone.
I had to kill them. There's no one else besides me. I'm it. And I cannot fail."

As she stared into those blazing eyes, her heart sank. All the weight of the world on one man's shoulders? It was too much for a single soul to bear. How could it not break him? "I'm sorry they all died," she said softly as he turned away, striding across the clearing as if to put distance between them. "I know how it feels." And she did. She lived the deaths of those few people she believed in every day. "There is so little to believe in, that when you lose even that, there's nothing left."

"No," Dante said, turning back toward her. "There's always something left. There's always another chance. There must
always
be redemption." He walked toward her, his body lean and lithe, his muscles rippling like a wild animal stalking his prey.

She tensed and held up her hand to ward him off. "Too much hope breaks you," she replied, unable to keep the ache out of her own heart. "If you believe too much, the crash is too hard—"

"Then you never allow failure
.
" Dante pulled her close, burying his face in her neck as he spoke. She was astounded that his words could be spoken by a man who had already admitted that everyone he believed in had failed, and that all he had tried had come up short. How was he able to say those words, when the earth around him was littered with all he'd lost?

"How can you believe?" she asked, even as she raised her hand to the curve of his neck, needing to touch him, to feel the strength that this warrior bled so fiercely. "I don't understand how you can see success and victory, when there is nothing around but carnage and loss."

"Because there is no other choice." He pressed his face deeper into the crook of her shoulder, his whiskers prickling her. His breath was hot and fiery on her skin, a temptation laced with danger and anger. "There has to be a way," he said. "There
has
to be." He ran his hand down her arm, his touch so soft it was like the whisper of a butterfly's wings. "Such beauty," he said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Such innocence." Another kiss on her collarbone. "Such courage." He feathered a kiss across her cheek. "And so much loss," he said, his voice rough as he whispered his last comment. "You make me want to be the man I have not yet been able to be."

Tears seemed to bleed from her heart, filling her lungs, making her chest ache. She lifted her head to gaze at him. "How can you see me like that, Dante? Don't you know where I'm from? Can't you feel the blackness of the blood that runs through me?" She spread her hands, as if she could see through her flesh. "I am my mother's daughter," she said, raising her gaze to his. "You must see this. You must know the life I've led. Why do you fight what must be done? Sever the veil. Destroy the sword. Let me die before I can do more harm. It's not that complicated."

Dante raised her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. "I see your darkness, but I'm no better," he said softly. "Do you see the blood on my own hands? Do you feel the deaths streaming from my flesh? Do you hear the cries of men as I took their lives, merely because they made the mistake of falling in love? Do you see all that I did when I was too weak to resist my father, before I became strong enough to escape his rule? Do you see all that I have destroyed in the name of protecting innocents?" His voice was heavy and thick, not the determined rant of a warrior. "And do you see all the women, the children, the innocent, who have been cleaved to death by the men I didn't stop in time? Can you see that? I bathe in blood every day of my life. I sleep in death. I walk in murder."