Eternal Mates 7 - Taken by a Dragon (26 page)

She bore wounds on her fair skin.

She had been beaten.

“What did this to you?” The words seemed to leave his lips of their own volition, coming from an unfamiliar part of him, one that felt alien and shook him with the strength of its will and the depth of its feelings.

She shook her head and backed away from him, her green eyes gradually widening and filling with fear.

Her lips wouldn’t answer him, so he sought it from her eyes.

He stared deep into them and saw it all for himself. He witnessed her suffering at the hands of a dragon.

His blade was in his hand before he knew what he was doing. Blue flames flickered along the length of it, darkest near the hilt. Almost black. A need filled him, a terrible hunger that he couldn’t hold back or deny.

“A dragon resides in this place. I will slay him for you.” He swept the blade down at his side and focused his senses to find the dragon who had been in the other room when he had arrived.

Sable shoved the two huntresses behind her. “Don’t you bloody dare! That dragon had nothing to do with what happened to Emelia.”

Emelia?

His gaze drifted back to the slender female. She had bowed her head, her dark hair falling down to obscure her face and steal the pleasure of seeing it from him, and had wrapped her arms around herself, holding herself so tightly he felt she feared she might fall apart.

“Where does the dragon who did this to you reside?” He spoke to her but it was Sable who answered.

“In Hell.”

His mood darkened again on hearing that, but he recalled that all dragons had been banished from the mortal realm millennia ago by a powerful witch. He flexed his fingers around the hilt of his blade, his mind working to find a solution to his problem so he could hunt and slay the dragon, but none presented itself.

Irritated by a seemingly irremovable object in his path, he muttered, “I cannot enter Hell.”

And regretted it when Sable’s eyes lit up.

“What a shame,” she said with a victorious smile.

She believed she would be safe from him there, but he wasn’t going to give her a chance to escape him.

He lunged for her.

A huge demon male appeared in his path, his eyes blazing red and dusky horns curling from above his pointed ears, twisting around themselves to flare forwards like daggers on either side of his temples. The male bared sharp fangs and grew even larger, coming to tower over him as his leathery dark wings brushed the walls and ceiling as he hunched over in the room.

He readied his sword.

The demon didn’t give him a chance to use it.

The enormous male spoke in the demon tongue, each word piercing his ears like white-hot needles and slithering through him like oily darkness, warning him away from the female.

She had not lied.

She was a queen of demons.

But she was Echelon too.

“This is not over,” he spat the words at the demon and teleported just as the male swung at him.

He reappeared on the balcony of his home in the vast white of Heaven and looked down on them, seeing through the layers of the building to the room where he had been just a second before.

It wasn’t Sable or the demon who was the focus of his gaze though.

It was Emelia.

He watched her as she shrank away from the group, still holding herself, entranced by her beauty and angered by her suffering.

He would find a way to slay her dragon for her.

He would bring the wrath of Heaven down upon all of Hell.

A
wareness slowly grew within Loke as the effects of the gas began to wear off. Two men were dragging him through the corridors, but his surroundings were no longer white. They flashed red in time with the piercing wail that drove through his mind like a sharp spear, repeatedly stabbing him until he growled groggily and prayed to the gods it would shut up.

The man holding him under his right arm looked down at him and then up at his comrade. “Better hurry before he comes around.”

Where were they taking him?

He hazily remembered being in a different room with the two scientists.

A clearer memory rose and rage blasted through him, born of a need to protect his mate.

He had sensed her close to him when he had been in that room, and had instinctively known that she was beyond the mirror that had reflected his stark gaunt image back at him. He had sensed another presence too. Shortly after they had shoved him down onto the strange table and strapped him in place, he had felt a powerful being in the other room with Anais.

A heartbeat after that, the lights had begun flashing and the irritating noise had started.

He had been unshackled and pulled from the room.

But Anais had remained back there, in that other room where the presence had appeared.

She was in danger.

He needed to get to her.

He tried to fight the hold of the two mortal males, but the weakness infesting him and the debilitating effects of the gas they had given him made it impossible to break free. Shame swept through him, chafing at the pride he had as a warrior and a dragon. He had been reduced to a creature weaker than a human.

The men dumped him back in his cell and he lay on the white floor, breathing hard and shaking all over as he fought a dizzy spell that threatened to have what little contents were in his stomach rising up his throat. He closed his eyes and clung to the floor as it rocked and whirled.

It wasn’t the gas that was affecting him now.

It was being in this realm.

He had to escape, but the one chance he had been given had been stolen away from him by whatever creature had appeared in the room with Anais and the other huntress.

Hope drained from him, fear and the reality of his situation combining to siphon it from him and leave him cold and exhausted, on the brink of surrendering and allowing death to claim him.

“What’s happening?” Harbin’s voice rang loudly through the wall as the male banged on it.

It roused Loke from his stupor and gave him something else to focus on as he pulled himself back together.

He couldn’t give up.

No matter how much he desired it.

A warrior never surrendered, not even to death. He would fight it until he could fight no more.

He managed to push himself up into a kneeling position on the white floor and pressed his right hand to the wall that separated him and Harbin.

“I do not know.” Just as he said that, the screeching noise fell silent. He looked up at the ceiling and thanked the gods for their mercy. “I sensed a strong presence near me and then the infernal lights began flashing and that noise began.”

“It’s called an alarm. They raise it when something bad happens.”

Loke pulled himself closer to the wall and rested against it. “Then something bad has happened.”

He stared at the corridor, filled with an impotent need to reach Anais and ensure that she was safe. Had whatever invaded the complex come for her? The fear returned, running through his veins and making his blood burn even as it chilled. This time, it wasn’t fear for his own life. It was fear for hers. He had seen her death so many times now.

But never in a place like this.

He clung to that, using it as a balm to soothe his heart and give him hope.

She was strong, and so was the one called Sable. Together they could manage to escape whatever had entered the room with them.

Minutes ticked by slowly, each second like an hour as he struggled to remain awake, his eyes constantly locked on the corridor beyond the glass. He willed Anais to appear in it and show him that she was safe. He needed to see her.

The alarms began again, the red flashing lights hurting his eyes. He wanted to close them and to cover his ears, but he forced himself to keep his gaze on the corridor. Anais had to come to him. He needed her.

A shriek rose above the wail of the alarm, followed by a heavy thud. There was a series of harsh grunts and then the metallic ring of weapons clashing. Someone was fighting.

Loke pulled himself closer to the glass, needing to see what was happening in the corridor. Was someone attacking the complex?

He growled at the thought, the need to break free of his cell and protect Anais sweeping through him, stronger than ever.

“Can you see anything?” Harbin called through the wall.

“Nothing.” And it was frustrating him, wearing at his patience and his temper.

He pressed his hand to the glass and tried to focus beyond it and use his senses to detect what species were wreaking havoc in the corridor just out of sight. His head turned again, spinning violently, and he had to close his eyes against the sudden whirling that made the world around him nothing but streaks of white and red.

All he could detect was that there was two of them, and they were not the presence he had sensed in the room with Anais.

These two were strong, but far weaker than the one he had felt.

A tall male with blue-black hair and obsidian armour that hugged his lithe figure stopped directly in front of Loke’s cell and glared at the ceiling. The alarms ceased and the lights stopped flashing. It was the male’s doing.

An elf.

A powerful one too.

The male turned violet eyes on Loke, a curious but disappointed flicker in them, and then moved on. Who was the male searching for?

The answer became apparent when he stopped to the right of Loke.

“Hartt!” Harbin’s voice rang through the wall and the elf looked thoroughly annoyed.

“What the Devil made you toss yourself into this predicament?” The male called Hartt moved towards the glass of Harbin’s cell.

Loke became slowly aware that someone was staring at him and he shifted his gaze to the male standing in the corridor in front of him.

Another elf.

But this one had darkness in his eyes.

They were jet black.

The male curled his lip at Loke, flashing a hint of fang, and produced a cloth from the air. He wiped his long black blade on it, his gaze on Loke the whole time, leaving him feeling that the male wanted to kill him as he had slain the guards. Loke had seen many males with that same darkness in their eyes during his lifetime, that same hunger for bloodshed, violence and death. This male didn’t care who his foe was or whether they were his foe at all. He craved death and he fed that hunger, making it grow more voracious.

The elves had a name for those who succumbed to the darkness.

They called them tainted.

The male standing before him looked more than merely tainted to Loke.

He looked dangerous, crazed, and consumed by the darkness. It ruled him.

“Fuery, get your backside in gear and deal with those guards.” Hartt pointed towards the end of the corridor they had entered through.

The one called Fuery smiled, a glimmer of joy in his black eyes as he turned to face his new opponents and beckoned them with a crook of his armoured clawed finger. His pointed ears flared back against his overlong blue-black hair that was drawn back to reveal them, the top half of his hair tied into a small ponytail with a silver clasp and the rest allowed to brush his neck. He bared his fangs at his enemies and disappeared in a flash.

Hartt watched him go, his expression emotionless but holding a touch of wariness, as if he regretted what they were doing.

Butchering creatures far weaker than they were.

“Stand back.” Hartt twisted a small black device that Loke couldn’t quite see and it looked as if he pressed it to the glass front of Harbin’s cell. The elf male turned violet eyes on Loke. “I suggest you move back too.”

Loke mustered his strength and shuffled back to a safer distance. The moment he was nearing the back of his cell, Hartt sprinted down the corridor towards where Fuery was fighting.

A bright violet flash blinded Loke and a violent explosion deafened him, making his ears ring as it rocked his cell.

The glass barrier fractured, deep splinters racing across the surface of it. The glass that had contained Harbin completely exploded, raining down in the corridor, and the male growled and muttered several ripe curses.

Hartt appeared back in view and glanced at Loke. “I suggest you escape this place.”

A suggestion that Loke was going to take, just as soon as he had rested enough to regain the necessary strength to shatter the glass wall and actually make it out of the complex alive.

“Desist!” A deep commanding voice caused Hartt to turn wide violet eyes on the end of the corridor where Fuery had been fighting.

Fuery who was suddenly beside Hartt, a similarly stunned expression on his face. It lasted only a second before he looked ready to take on this new foe. Loke wasn’t sure that was a wise decision. Whoever this new male was, he was far more powerful than the two elves combined.

Hartt knew it. Loke could see it in his eyes. He wanted to follow that command and halt the attack.

“Take the dragon.” Harbin’s voice sounded in the corridor and Hartt looked at him.

“I cannot teleport three. I am sorry.” Hartt lowered his gaze to his feet, a regretful edge to his expression, and then drew in a deep breath and burst into action.

Loke had a brief glimpse of a silver-haired male with equally silver eyes as Hartt grabbed Harbin with one hand and caught hold of Fuery with the other.

The elf teleported both of them in a flash of silver-violet light.

The male who had issued the command appeared in view, a black look on his noble face, his violet eyes narrowed in displeasure. His pointed ears flared against the sides of his head through his neat blue-black hair as he bared his fangs. Another elf.

Loke knew this one.

Prince Loren.

The elf prince huffed, looked back along the corridor and raised his hand in a sort of signal. Who was he beckoning?

More elves?

Loke growled at the male and lumbered onto his feet, preparing to fight him. They had been at war in the Third Realm and if the male had come to finish what had been started there, Loke would teach him that an elf was no match for a dragon. He swayed and pressed his hand to the wall, determined to overcome the weakness battering him and threatening to send him plunging into the waiting arms of darkness.