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“Fox,” he croaked. Her name echoed inside his head, waking up other parts of him. Nerve endings tingled to life. Muscles tensed, and blood heated. Beautiful warrior. She’d faced her crimes without flinching, blatantly admitting to the truth. Such strength. Such wit. When they’d fought, she’d cared more about Galen’s and Legion’s safety than her own.
So different from Leema and Alana.
Bjorn wished he’d had another memory of her childhood. Something. Anything!
His friends rushed to his side and helped him ease into an upright position.
“She remains in the dungeon,” Thane told him.
Good, that was good. So why did the male look away rather than meet his gaze?
“Galen the Treacherous has been blowing up your cell phone with calls and texts,” Xerxes said. “He says you are his new pet project, and whatever you do to harm Fox, he will revisit upon you a thousandfold.”
So protective. Had Bjorn been mistaken before? Were the two lovers?
He wished he knew more about the woman. The memory he’d dreamed about her childhood—he stiffened. The memory. Her memory. His chest did that clenching thing, the ensuing pangs nearly splitting him in two. Why had he glimpsed into her past? How had he glimpsed into her past?
Bjorn drew in a deep breath to clear his mind. Instead, he became more aware of his body’s needs. “I’ll deal with Galen later. Bathroom now.”
His friends had assisted him every time he’d returned from Alana’s and now knew the drill. Each male latched on to one of his arms and helped him stand. Then, they acted as crutches as he hobbled to his private en suite, his knees too weak to hold his weight.
Voice diamond-hard, Thane said, “You will be avenged.”
“Your tormentor has suffered and will continue to suffer. No mercy,” Xerxes grated. “I want her to hurt.”
“Drink, my friend.” Thane handed Bjorn a small vial.
Only a few precious drops remained inside. The Water of Life came from the heavens. A single drop could drive a demon from a body, depending on the person and situation. Also, depending on the person and situation, it could cure any disease and heal any injury. The Water could even revive the dead.
Once Bjorn ran out…
Don’t think about that. He unplugged the vial and tipped a single drop onto his tongue.
Moments after swallowing, a cool, effervescent sensation invaded his veins and traveled through every inch of him. Suddenly, he felt cleansed from the inside out. His mouth tasted minty fresh. His every blood cell sparkled—surely—as if they’d received a vigorous polish. Strength seeped into his muscles.
After re-corking the vial and hanging it from his neck, he stripped and showered on his own, scrubbing the queen’s soot and scent from his skin. Xerxes and Thane stayed close, just in case.
When one of the three had a need, the other two gave without hesitation.
No man had better friends. Bjorn loved them both dearly. They kept him sane, giving him a reason to look ahead rather than continually glancing back at the horrors of his past.
He dried off and donned a clean robe, then returned to the bed on his own, easing onto the edge of the mattress. Time for the Q and A portion of his recovery. “How long have I been out this time?”
“Three days,” Xerxes said.
Blink, blink. Three days. An eternity. “Tell me you cared for Fox while I was out. Tell me you fed her.” In the memory, she’d been starved. The thought of her going hungry again…
The two shared a glance loaded with tension.
“What did she do to you, exactly?” Thane asked at a lower than usual volume. “Not even Alana has harmed you to such a degree.”
“Not Fox. Alana. She flew into a rage when I ignored her summons, choosing to stay close to Fox.” New memories flooded in, and his hands fisted. How Alana had stepped inside his body to possess him. How she’d roughly syphoned his energy. How blood had rushed from his extremities in seconds, pooling in his abdomen to protect his vital organs. How he’d continually vomited and blacked out. How he’d cried like an infant, a sense of violation unwavering.
How much abuse could one being take before he stopped recovering?
Razor-sharp guilt pulsed from the warriors, rousing dread in Bjorn. Something had happened while he slept. Something terrible. “Tell me,” he demanded.
Massaging the back of his neck, Thane said, “We assumed Fox was responsible. We…punished her for it, Bjorn. Severely.”
He went still, not even daring to breathe. “What did you do?” But he divined the answer before he finished the sentence. Whipping. Too far. Furious.
“The day you collapsed, we whipped her,” Xerxes said, confirming his suspicions. “Forty lashes from a whip laced with infirm?de.”
Denial screamed inside Bjorn’s head. Proud Fox, whipped and unable to heal… Red dotted his vision.
He should revel. Exactly what she deserved. But dark fury sparked. She’d been whipped for a crime she hadn’t committed, not the one she had.
“We also denied her food and water,” Thane added.
The fury intensified, devouring his calm façade. “I did not want her harmed.” He leaped to his feet, demanding, “Where is she, exactly?”
Thane bowed his head. “The cell we use for torture. She told us she hoped you died and we…reacted. After the whipping, we left her hanging on the whipping post.”
“Of course, she wants me to die,” Bjorn snarled, surprising both men. “I plan to kill her.”
Forty lashes. Three days of starvation. The fury slashed at his insides. Guilt joined the party, pouring salt on the wounds. Usually, only demons were left on the post, and only to increase the amount of pain they experienced before their execution.
Fox murdered ten Sent Ones in cold blood. She deserves this. So why did his guilt continue to grow?
Bjorn scoured a hand over his face. “I need to see
her. Alone.” No telling how she’d react to the sight of Thane and Xerxes. “I will be sharing the Water of Life with her.”
His friends reacted as if he’d issued a bomb threat.
Thane gave his head a brutal shake, saying, “We have so little, and she is so…unworthy.”
Xerxes ran his tongue over his teeth. “The demon-possessed cannot drink the Water without suffering debilitating pain.”
“Better pain than death,” Bjorn ground out.
Thane spread his arms wide. “Why save someone you plan to kill?”
Excellent question. Bjorn didn’t know the answer. He only knew he couldn’t not heal her. To allow her to suffer for a crime she had not committed… I’d be as bad as a demon.
“Acquiring more Water is nearly impossible these days,” Xerxes said. “If we run out before your next visit with Alana, how will you recover?”
“I’ll find a way,” he replied, standing and nodding. Eager to aid Fox, he strode to the door.
“The Elite have a mandatory meeting this evening,” Thane called, stopping him in his tracks. “Axel’s cloud, seven sharp.”
Axel. An irreverent Sent One as misunderstood as Bjorn, Thane and Xerxes. The guy took nothing seriously, slept with anyone breathing, and pissed off anyone forced to partner with him. But he never judged the people around him, and it hadn’t taken long for Bjorn to fall in like with him.
“I’ll be there.” Finally, he strode from the bedroom.
Halfway there, his limbs began to shake, his knees threatening to buckle. These days, a drop of Water no longer revived him fully. He’d built up a tolerance and required more. A drop merely strengthened him, speeding up the healing process. So, as he made the trek to the dungeon, he fought to remain upright.
Priceless antique furnishings and luxurious surroundings soon gave way to disrepair and crumbling stone walls littered with claw marks. Marks made by demons as they were dragged to their cells. Bjorn crinkled his nose, the air saturated with a mix of filth, body odor, and death.
Someone had died. Someone like Fox?
He snaked around a corner, finally reaching the torture chamber.
