Darkness Surrendered (Primal Heat Trilogy #3) (Order of the Blade) (19 page)

No. I’ve heard of other Calydons having that talent, but I didn’t realize he could do it as well. Complicates things, especially now that I know he has a connection with you, too.
Elijah turned them in a circle, his grip tight on her arm and his other hand ready with his throwing star as he surveyed their surroundings.
Which means you might have the same problem I have.

Oh, God. We have a problem? What kind of problem? This isn’t the time for a problem!

Suddenly, Elijah whipped them around and hurled his throwing star at a tree. It sliced clean through the trunk of the tree and then hit something with a solid thud. Elijah called it back and it came flying through the air and slammed into his hand.

Blood was dripping from three of the points.

Her stomach roiled, then Elijah roared and hurled both throwing stars at the tree. “You’re going down now, you bastard,” he shouted. Then he dropped her hand and bolted for the target before his weapons had even reached the tree.

Leaving her behind. Charging into battle without her touch to keep him sane.

“Elijah!” She scrambled after him as his battle roar changed to a scream of agony and terror and then he disappeared into the underbrush.

And then there was silence.

She eased toward it, then waited until she felt the touch on her face again, then lunged for the stick and swung it as hard she could right at the spot where he had to be standing.

The branch whizzed through the air, hit nothing, then snapped out of her hands and flew across the clearing and disappeared into the woods with a thud.

Where was he? She whirled around, frantically trying to find her assailant.

Her head began to hurt and the air became heavier and a small breeze began to build. She realized instantly that one of her illusions was building, rising up to defend her from the threat surrounding her. Dear God, not
now
.

She clenched her fists and stopped retreating, trying to calm her mind.
You are fine
, she told herself
. There is no threat. Calm down—

Then suddenly the ferns came to life, wrapping around her ankles, trapping her. Ana went rigid, fighting the urge to claw at her ankles and free them.
This is an illusion. The plants are not grabbing me.
The wind began to rise and whip around her, making her hair slash against her face.
This is not real. I know it’s not real!

Then there was a scream, and she jerked her eyes open in time to see Elijah on the ground beside her, covered in blood. Horror welled inside her as she stumbled back, frantically trying to see through the illusion. “No! This isn’t happening!” A tree branch flew at her face. She screamed and ducked, but it changed trajectory and slammed against her throat, wrapping itself so tightly she couldn’t breathe. She gasped for air, dropping to her knees as she clawed at the branch, trying to get it free, her screams cut off in her throat.

Elijah was beside her on the ground, writhing and screaming as wounds opened over his body, blood saturating the ground until the earth couldn’t take anymore. The blood was rising over her feet, turning her cast pink as the branch tightened even more around her throat. Couldn’t breathe... Drowning in blood... Just like before... Her fingers...wet with blood...the branch slicing through her skin...choking her...

And then everything went black.

***

Ana groaned, gradually becoming aware of a searing pain on the front of her neck. She touched her throat, and gasped at the pain from her shredded flesh. With a groan, she opened her eyes, staring up at the shadowed woods from the setting sun. The branches of the tree above her head were tinged with brown, and the air smelled musty and rotted.

Ezekiel.

She shoved herself onto her elbows and searched the woods around her, but saw nothing. Elijah wasn’t on the ground beside her bleeding out. There were no branches wrapped around her throat. Her fingers were covered in crusted blood, from trying to claw the non-existent branch off her neck. Carefully, Ana touched her throat again to test the damage, but the pain was too sharp and she gave up, rolling to her knees instead.

She’d never hurt herself in her own illusion.

They were getting worse.

A low moan drifted through the woods, and she froze, holding her breath.
Elijah?

There was no answer, but she caught the faint pulse of his energy, a warm, strong frequency she was beginning to recognize. “Elijah!” He was alive! Hope leapt through her, and tears of relief filled her eyes. She grabbed a nearby tree and pulled herself to her feet, gasping with pain when her foot hit the ground.

She looked down and saw blood on her cast. She must have clawed at her ankles to get free of the vines she’d thought were binding them.

The pulse of Elijah’s energy grew stronger, and this time it was laced with panic. She realized Elijah was starting to regain consciousness, and his mind was fragmenting again.
I’m coming. Hang on.
Using her arms to shield her face against the branches, Ana shoved her way through the bushes, urgency galvanizing her forward.

The thorns from the blackberry bushes ripped at her skin, and she blocked her face and let them stab at her arms and legs as she pushed through them. Elijah’s energy and panic were getting stronger and stronger—

She burst through the blackberry bushes and saw him strung up between two trees, bound by thick vines around his wrists and ankles. Blood was caked on his shirt, his jeans muddy and torn, his boots drenched in muck. His muscles were twitching, and his face was torqued as if he were in pain.

“Elijah!” She limped hurriedly across the uneven ground as his body went rigid and a scream began to rip from his throat. She fell against him, thrusting her hands under his shirt and wrapping her arms around his waist just as his body began to shake from convulsions. Tears of relief burned at the feel of his hot skin under her touch, and she sagged against him, needing to press every inch of herself against him. Not just for his sake, but for hers. He was alive. He was real. She hadn’t lost him.

His body shuddered, and the convulsion ended before it began
. Ana
. His voice was a whisper in her mind, just like she’d heard at the pit when she’d been searching for him. So full of pain, so desperate, and yet there was stark relief in it as well.

“What happened to you? Was it Ezekiel?” She tugged at the vines, but the knot was so tight her flingers slid right off it.

He shook his head. “I’m not sure. The demons came back, and I don’t remember much until just now when I woke up with you holding me and chasing them away. But I remember smelling blood, and I felt Ezekiel.” He grimaced in frustration. “We need to get to the prison to figure out if Ezekiel is still there or if he was here, toying with us.” He tugged experimentally at the vines, his body regaining strength so quickly she could practically feel it burning under his skin, revitalizing him. “Someone’s playing with me, and I don’t like it.”

She shivered at the dark woods and tugged harder on the knots, frantic to get him free before Ezekiel came back, then she realized he was watching her with a heavy gaze. “What is it?”

“Did you do another illusion? I have these memories—” He looked down at himself, and she followed his gaze. “I keep expecting to see wounds erupting over my body and me bleeding out.”

She went cold. “Oh,
God
, Elijah. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop my illusion.”

He swore. “It’s getting worse, if you could penetrate my mind even when I’m unconscious.”

“I’m too dangerous for you.” She ran her hands over his chest, unable to stop herself from looking for the injuries she’d seen in her illusion. But his chest was intact, not a single wound. “My illusions are extremely powerful. I’m—”

She froze when his body jerked at her touch, and he released a low groan that resonated deep in her core, and made her suddenly aware of him as a male and her as a female. She quickly pulled her hands off his chest and peeled her body off his, leaving only her hand on his waist.

Elijah’s eyes were glittering and dark. “When you touch me like that, it haunts me, but at the same time, it makes me want you so badly, I can’t think.”

Ana swallowed, suddenly glad he was still tied down, because the way her body was pulsing, she knew she wouldn’t stop him if he came after her. And that would be so, so dangerous for both of them. “That was idiotic to leave me behind when you went after Ezekiel.”

“Yeah, in hindsight, it didn’t work that well, but at the time, I was thinking about killing our stalker before he could hurt you. Not used to having to hold hands when I go into battle.” Elijah’s voice was low and cranky as his gaze swept across her body. “Are you okay? When the demons rose and I realized I was going down, all I could think about was the fact I was leaving you unprotected—” His gaze went to her throat, and he swore suddenly. “You’re
hurt.”

There was such fury in Elijah’s voice that Ana’s heart tightened. No one had ever been enraged on her behalf like that before. Ever. “I’m okay—”

Elijah let out a roar of fury, his body went rigid, and he snapped all the vines binding him as if they were made of paper. The instant his hands were free, he tackled Ana, knocking her to the ground.

She yelped as he landed on top of her, shifting his weight to protect her from the impact, and then his hands were flying over her, searching every inch of her. “Where are you hurt? I knew it was a bad idea to leave you.” He yanked up her shirt, swearing when he saw the marks on her stomach. “What the hell happened? You’re covered in gouges.”

She could only stare at him, in awe of the fury vibrating off his shoulders as he slid his hand down her legs, checking for broken bones. His hand got to her ankle and she couldn’t help but gasp. He jerked up her jeans and wrapped his hand around the arch of her foot as he gently lifted it and inspected. He swore again, then inspected her other leg, with the cast.

It was incredible to have him so concerned about her welfare, to be so protective of her. “Elijah, really, I’m okay—”

“You’re bleeding.” His body was vibrating with barely contained fury as he palmed his way back up her other leg and then grabbed her arm. He shoved her sleeve up, his fingers probing her wrist where she’d fallen, his gaze intent on her while he tested. “Hurts?”

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from crying out in pain. “I fell on it.”

“Fell?” he echoed. “Fell. She says she fell.” He tugged down the collar of her shirt, as she tried to cover her throat.

“Don’t—”

He peeled her fingers off her neck, his grip unyielding as his gaze probed her injuries.

His eyes narrowed as he studied the raw wounds. “You did this to yourself.” He sounded shocked.

She nodded as he touched his eyes, where the claws marks from where he’d tried to dig out his own eyes were fading, and she saw the moment he figured it out, that they were the same, hurting themselves because of illusions they couldn’t defend against.