Pride of the Lion: Hades' Carnival, Book 3 (26 page)

Hades manifested a sword, stood above him, staring down with his soulless eyes. The god raised the blade and thrust it downward, pinning him to the ground. Leander gritted his teeth to keep from yelling with the pain that burst through his gut. He wasn’t sure he had enough strength left to remove the sword.

Araminta’s breath was labored, and when she coughed, blood tinged her lips. He ignored the sword. He ignored Hades and Mordecai. Nothing was as important as touching the woman he loved and letting her know she wasn’t alone.

He reached out his hand, stretching beyond the pain, beyond the agony ripping at his belly. He would love her forever, beyond time and space. He prayed to the Lady for strength and pushed his body past his limits, smiling when he felt the slightest graze of Araminta’s fingertips against his.

They had fought together and they would die together. He had failed her, but he would protect her soul in the Underworld.

Love and a sense of peace enfolded him.

The world exploded around them in a shower of light so bright he had to close his eyes against the sheer brilliance. Hades’ cursed and Mordecai roared in pain. Colors exploded behind Leander’s eyes, so many beautiful colors.

In the distance, Leander thought he heard a clock chiming, but he couldn’t count off the hours. Energy, pure and potent, poured through his veins, and he knew what he had to do. Even though only the tips of their fingers were touching, he poured his life’s energy into Araminta, willing her to live.

He managed to open his eyes and squint against the brilliant light that seemed to surround them. Her eyes were almost closed, their vibrant gray dulled as her life’s blood drained out of her.

“No,” he gasped. “Araminta. You must live.”

She tried to speak, but she was too weak to form words. He kept his gaze on her as he reached down with his free hand and grasped the sword pinning him to the ground. He took a deep breath, wrapped his hand around the blade—ignoring the way it cut into his fingers and made them bleed—and yanked.

He ground his back teeth together to keep from yelling aloud as the blade moved a few inches. His lion writhed in agony within him. His blood poured down the blade of the sword. He disregarded the pain, shut out everything but his growing need to reach Araminta.

He gritted his teeth, muscles in his neck cording as he pulled again. This time the sword slipped out. He tossed the weapon away and rolled onto his side. He was losing way too much blood, but he didn’t care.

Araminta’s eyes were closed and he prayed he was not too late. He dragged his weakened body over to her and cupped her face in his blood-stained hands. She was limp, not responding to his touch.

Frantically, he searched for a pulse in her neck. It was no more than a flutter, but it was there. He leaned over her, his breath mingling with her last gasp. “Come back to me. I love you.” Each word was ripped from his soul. A lone tear rolled down his cheek and splashed onto her lips.

Leander pushed his life’s energy into Araminta, willing her wound to heal, all the while praying she hadn’t lost too much blood. He was capable of healing himself of injury, given enough time, but he ignored his wounds and concentrated solely on Araminta. Every fiber, every cell of his body strained toward the goal of healing her.

Time lost all meaning as they lay on the cool hard ground, their blood soaking into the earth, a sacrifice of their love and commitment to one another.

His eyes closed and he blinked them open. He could not remember ever being as weak as he was now. A normal sword would not have wounded him so deeply, but Mordecai’s sword was one of the seven forged by the Lady herself, given to her warriors when they were created. They were powerful weapons meant to protect one another, never to harm a brother-in-arms.

Leander’s energy waned and he rolled back onto the ground beside Araminta, unable to hold himself on his side any longer. Araminta still hadn’t moved and worry tore at him. Had his efforts been enough? Even though every tiny movement was pure agony, he slid his arm beneath her and dragged her toward him until her head rested on his shoulder.

There was nothing more he could do. He had no idea what had happened to Hades and Mordecai. With any luck they were both back in Hell where they belonged. But where were he and Araminta? Were they in Hell or was this some other place, an antechamber designed to resemble her backyard?

He guessed it didn’t matter so long as they were together.

Leander’s eyes slipped shut. His lion chuffed, offering comfort. He tightened his grip on Araminta, refusing to let her go as darkness overtook him.

Hades swore in ten different languages as the brilliant light surrounded him, leaving him practically paralyzed. It was stronger than any he’d ever encountered, and he had little defense against it. The light was hot and seemed to burn straight to his core.

Mordecai grabbed him by the arm and yanked him toward a portal that appeared behind them. The warrior dragged them both into the dark tunnel just as the backyard exploded in an ocean of color.

Hades threw his hands over his face, but he was momentarily blinded. The light drilled into his eyes all the way to his brain, leaving him in utter agony. It was only by sheer will he stayed upright. He would not show any more weakness than necessary in front of the warrior. It wouldn’t do for the immortal being to get any ideas.

“What the fuck happened?” Hades’ voice was powerful and authoritative, just the way he liked it. He lowered his hands as the soothing darkness enfolded him. Mordecai didn’t answer, but then again, he knew the warrior had to be feeling the effects of whatever that light was. The serpent also didn’t enjoy traveling through the portals, so he’d feel even more uncomfortable than Hades was. At least that gave him some pleasure.

They stepped out into his chamber, and Hades strode to his chair and threw himself down onto it. He would never admit to anyone that his knees were weak and he was sick to his stomach. There was something about that light that was dangerous to him. “Well?” he raised an imperious brow.

Mordecai shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I think that was the curse being broken.”

“But time hadn’t run out.” They’d still had several hours, time he’d planned to use watching both the woman and the lion die before dragging their souls to his domain. He’d been cheated. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair as he pondered this new development.

The warrior went to the long sideboard filled with food and drink and poured a goblet of wine. He walked to the throne and handed it to Hades. “I think the clock might have had some help.”

“The Lady?”

Mordecai nodded. “The light that struck felt very familiar. It’s possible the Lady was able to make time seem as though it was passing slowly when really it was moving faster.” He paused. “Much like when Luna used your power to catch Araminta in that waking dream.”

“Hmm.” Hades sipped the wine and contemplated Mordecai’s explanation. “So the Lady is not as weak as she seemed.”

“Not then, but it takes an enormous amount of energy to manipulate time. That’s if she was indeed responsible for what happened.”

Mordecai strode to the wall and leaned against it, losing himself in the shadows. Hades didn’t care where the warrior stood as long as he knew where Mordecai was. He didn’t trust the warrior. Of course, he didn’t trust anyone so it was a moot point.

He turned and stared into the mirror. It was dark. “Show me the Lady.” A vision of a dark meadow slowly came into focus. The goddess was lying in the dirt, naked and obviously exhausted. There was no way for him to know if she’d had a hand in this latest debacle or not. Either way, she was now powerless.

“Show me the warrior and the girl,” Hades commanded. A pinprick of light appeared in the center of the mirror, expanding slowly outward. The warrior was lying on the ground with the girl lying half on top of him. Neither was moving. He couldn’t tell if they were dead. All he knew was he didn’t have their souls. Would never have them now.

“Damn the Lady.” He flung the goblet toward the mirror, not wanting to see the image any longer. He realized what he’d done just as the goblet struck the glass. He flung out a surge of power, calling the wineglass back. If the mirror broke he would be blind to the world outside his realm. But there was no need. Mordecai’s hand hit the object and knocked it aside. Once again, the serpent had proven his worth.

“So there is only one warrior remaining.” Hades continued as though nothing had happened and he hadn’t almost destroyed his only link to the earthly plane.

“Arand.”

“The wolf.” Hades rubbed his hands together. “We know who the woman is. All we need to do is bring them together so she can set him free.”

“We need a new plan. The old one isn’t working.” Mordecai resumed his position leaning against the wall.

Hades thought about sending a bolt of lightning at the warrior and disintegrating him, but as much fun as it would be to watch the warrior burn, he needed him if his plan was going to succeed. Of course, he could do it without the warrior, but it was so much easier to have others do his fighting for him.

The warrior also wasn’t lying. Inserting demons into the lives of the women who freed the Lady’s guardians hadn’t worked. Neither had offering them deals. Maybe an all-out attack was in order. That’s the way he’d done it in the early days. He’d gotten Mordecai but lost Stavros and Phoenix. A dead warrior was no good to him. But his latest approach had allowed the last three to escape. Two of them were free. He muttered a curse, hating to admit he’d lost to Roric and Marko.

At least Leander was out of the picture. He was seriously injured but could recover given time. Hades knew the warrior would soon be dead. Hades had seen how the warrior looked at Araminta and knew the lion would use his life force to try to save her. Other than beheading, the only way for one of the warriors to lose his life was if he willingly gave up his life force to another. Personally, Hades didn’t understand why the warrior would do this for another. It didn’t matter if Araminta lived. She was human and of no consequence. He might not get the warrior’s soul, but the lion wouldn’t be offering any interference in the future.

“Maybe you’re right,” he conceded. “What do you suggest?” He would listen to what Mordecai had to say and then make his decision.

In the shadows, Mordecai smiled, and there was such evil intent in it that a shiver raced down Hades spine.

“Here’s what I think we should do.”

The Lady shivered, chilled all the way to her soul. It was strange for her to be cold. In all the years of her existence the temperature had never affected her.

“Lady.” The soft voice was followed by a gentle touch.

“John?”

“Yes.” A blanket was wrapped around her. “What have you done to yourself?”

What had she done? For a moment, all was blank. Then it returned in a rush. She’d shifted time. Only a few hours, but it had taken an enormous amount of energy, of power. Time was not under her jurisdiction, and her actions would definitely cause ripples in other planes of existence.

“Come. You must not stay here.” John lifted her until she was standing. She was so weak she leaned against him. “I’ll carry you.” He started to lift her, but she stopped him.

“I can manage.”

He was disgruntled but allowed her to walk, keeping his arm around her waist and lending her his strength. “What can I do to help you?”

Love flooded through her, pure and clear as a mountain stream. “You’ve already done more than enough. I just need to rest and recharge.” Again.

There was still another warrior waiting to be set free.

She wished she knew what was happening with Leander. She’d done all she could for him and his woman. The rest was up to him. She glanced up at the sky and sent what little power that remained inside her spiraling off in his direction.

When she swayed, John ignored her weak protests and lifted her into his arms. And she allowed it, having spent all her reserves.

“I have camp set up. You’ll rest and eat.”

She nodded, was too tired to speak any longer. The fight was not over and would get worse before it got better.

She prayed for Roric and Marko and the women who were now a part of them. She prayed for Stavros and Phoenix, fallen warriors lost in the battle. She prayed for Arand, still trapped and waiting. She prayed that Leander might yet live. His soul had not yet passed over, not wanting to leave the woman behind.

And she prayed for Mordecai and the dark path he’d taken.

Araminta awoke to a chill that gripped her bones and made her shiver uncontrollably. Why was she so cold? An uneasy feeling filled her and she wondered what had woken her. Something warm rubbed against her face and then butted against her nose. The action was followed by a grumbling purr.
Percy
.

She managed to pry open her eyes enough to create a thin slit of vision. Why was it so hard? Percy was staring at her, his green eyes filled with concern, or as concerned as Percy ever got. Maybe it was time for his feeding. Percy was always worried about being fed on time. Why was her mattress so lumpy and why had she gone to bed wearing her clothing?

Her eyes started to close, too heavy for her to keep open, but Percy let out another grumble and she forced them back open. “Okay, I’m awake.” Honestly, the cat thought he was the boss of her. He was probably right, but there was no need to let him know that.