Page 25

A ngor, OneWorld

Dom didn’t return home after the meet in Serenity Valley. He needed think-time. So he flew above mountaintops and swooped across valleys, trying to wipe Maddy from his mind.

At the top of the steps leading to the yard, she had waved goodbye when he’d told her he was off to see Michael. Dom had ignored her, not returning the farewell. Cowardly? Assholish?

Yep .

But he couldn’t muster a response. He was too wrapped up in his repeating past.

Flexing his wings gave him a reprieve from thinking. The exertion when he pushed the limits cleared his head.

He hadn’t saved his closest friend. Damn . He hadn’t even known Gareth was descending into madness. And his trial had been a disaster, primarily because of Gar’s behavior in court. The OC, deeming the assassin guilty, doomed him to Angor. While his friend awaited transport, Dom had visited his cell.

“Why should I kiss ass?” Gar had asked, his lips curling into a sneer.

Though annoyed by his brother assassin’s attitude, Dom had been encouraging, determined to wait, convinced of his eventual rehabilitation and return to Vast. The copper-winged assassin would once again fly at Dom’s side.

After visiting Gar’s cell, Dom threw himself on pillows near the fireplace in his home to reflect on the situation. Heavy rain thundered down on the protective shields, soothing and peaceful. Then the OC summoned him for a job.

The boss lazed on his throne as always, his bronze chest bare, his shirt unbuttoned. When Dom reported, the big guy cocked his head to the side. His penetrating gaze unnerving. “I have an assignment for you.”

“What is it?” Dom hoped the job was distracting enough to take his mind off Gareth’s problems.

“I have chosen you to chase down my copper-winged assassin. He has escaped from his cell. Your task is to capture him and deliver him to Angor. If you can. If not, extinct him.”

Silence pounded against the walls of Dom’s heart. He wasn’t sure he had heard the OneCreator correctly. Or if he had, was this some court game the boss was so fond of?

Dom swallowed hard, the lump in his throat a solid stone. “Why me? Send Michael.” He didn’t want to volunteer the other Feard. After all, they, too, were close to the afflicted assassin.

The OC waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Michael is dealing with a situation only he can handle. It is you.”

Dom considered arguing, but the determined line of the OneCreator’s lips told him it would be useless. He accepted the task, his duty as an assassin defining who he was.

Perhaps he was the best choice. He would not harm Gareth, and his brother was likely to come in willingly for him.

Outside the massive Sanctuary Keep where the OC lived in Vast, Dom hovered in the fresh air, allowing his mind to catch up to his task. He had never felt shrouded in such darkness, caught between his duty and saving his friend’s life. If he were smart, careful, and lucky, the two opposing tasks would meld and he would help Gar.

So he cast out his emotions, something he rarely did because the result bombarded his senses. He allowed them to drift across the dimension, searching for signs of fear, disruptions, and oddities.

Moistening his index finger, he raised it to taste the breeze, focusing his senses on the best direction. At first, nothing. Then a ripple, followed by a scream for help. He stroked his powerful midnight wings downward, lunging into the sky. High above the keep, he angled them for flight, shooting forward, aiming for the desperate pleas.

At The Between, a vibrant valley west of Clearwater Lake and east of the Lakelands region, he found the source of the agonized cries. He was too late, however. On the ground was a body torn asunder, blood soaking into the grass. The arms, legs, and torso of a female were strewn about like trash. On her face, where there should have been laughing eyes, there were orbs that had beheld horror. A nightmarish Scourge leaned over her.

Dom pounded his wings against the air, making certain his arrival was noisy, a distraction for the crazed Immortal. He landed, his long blade already drawn in challenge.

The being swung around, his eyes black lumps of coal. In each fist, he clasped entrails. Dripping down his chin was blood, and in his teeth were chunks of flesh.

Dom’s breath hitched. He wanted to scream his outrage. He had come across such sights before. Nothing new. But it was the face of the nightmare that shocked Dom. His heart stopped beating in his chest. He could not swallow. The sword he had drawn hung limp at his side.

Gareth.

His closest friend, the male he’d known since their haven, the one with whom he’d shared adventures and females.

Gar dropped the entrails on the grass and swiped an arm across his bloody mouth, leaving a stain on the sleeve of his tee. “Welcome to the party. I don’t suppose I can deny being a Flesh Eater. She is quite tasty. Care for a bite, my brother? Releasing our base emotions is both delectable and freeing.”

Dom shook his head, unable to speak. All he saw was the youth who had escaped their haven by flying away with him on an adventure. They were too young. No permission. Yet Gareth always accompanied Dom to keep him out of trouble, to give him a partner in crime. They had flown over the ocean, their wings still not mature. Caught, they were returned to the haven.

As young Immortals in the throes of uncontrollable hormones and youthful curiosity, they had hidden behind a large boulder at a nude bathing pond to sneak peeks at females, water sluicing off their naked bodies. Caught, they were returned to their haven.

Snitching bottles of Demon Scourge from a bar in Vast, they’d drunk their fill behind the stone walls of their haven. Caught, they were returned to their rooms.

In the aftermath of each adventure, his friend stood silent by his side, accepting his share of punishment though the ideas had always been Dom’s.

Now, Gar was a Flesh Eater. No longer the honorable copper-winged assassin. A Scourge. And Dom had missed the clues, had missed helping his friend fight the malady, had missed hearing his silent pleas. Or had Gareth never called out for help?

“Right about now, Dom, you are kicking your own ass. Blaming yourself. Understandable. I was always the docile one, your dutiful sidekick. You broke ground, knowing I’d follow. My turn to take the lead. I am no longer your shadow.”

Dom found his voice. “You were never my shadow. You were loyal. Honorable. My friend. Gareth, I never saw you as my sidekick, a follower rather than a leader.”

“You were always bigger than life, Dom. The glory-seeker. The barn-stormer. The path-clearer. My role was to back you.”

Had his friend so misunderstood him? Had he thought Dom a grandstander? Sure, he had always been his own male, fearless and a risk-taker. Yes. He was strong-willed. He enjoyed the pranks they had pulled. He thought Gar simply took longer to see the merits of a mischievous plan. But he felt they were in their adventures together.

“Now what, my friend?” His eyes diverted to stare lustily at the body parts beside his feet.

Dom shook his head to clear it. “Accompany me to Angor. Do the Ordeals. Reform. Return to Vast.” His gaze rolled over the Flesh Eater’s form. He had not yet developed any physical signs of being a Scourge. But each progression varied.

Gareth smiled and attacked without warning. He whipped out his copper wings, unsheathing the razor-edged tips. As a backup, he flashed a knife in his fist when he charged.

Though they had often sparred, Dom always showed restraint, realizing he was the stronger of the two. Grabbing Gar’s arms, he flung them both to the ground. Landing on his back, he tossed his friend overhead.

“Good one.” Gareth shot to his feet. With his wings flared, the tips arching forward, he rushed Dom. At the last second, he feinted to the right.

Dom fell for the move, and Gar plunged the handheld blade into his eye.

As he swiped blood from his face, Dom realized that Gareth was lost to him, unwilling to go to Angor. He needed to incapacitate his friend. Snapping out his wings, he liberated his sharp, obsidian-tips.

Gareth shouted with glee, “Bring it on, Dom. Finally, a real match between us. Know that I can still extinct an Immortal. Even a moralistic do-gooder like you. Don’t look surprised. You led me into pranks, but that’s all they were—meaningless, weak games thought up by an Immortal with no real spine. Now we’ll see who is better.”

Dom shut down, not allowing the mad utterings to reach him. His friend sounded like all Scourges, drinking their personal Kool-Aid.

Gareth’s razored copper wingtip sliced into Dom’s shoulder before he sidestepped the assault.

“I will never go willingly, Dominion. You have two options—I extinct you and flee, or you allow me to go on my way.”

While his once-treasured brother preened over his strike, Dom attacked. His knife-like feathers cut into Gareth’s neck, nearly beheading the fifth member of the Feard.

His once-friend slapped a palm to his throat, falling to the ground. His eyes clearing, he reached for Dom, who clasped his desperate hand.

Gareth’s words were a low rasp as he faced the injury and his capture. “I guess you took option three, my friend. You brought me to my inevitable end. No remorse. No guilt. Now, do your job.”

Dom was too choked up to speak.

“What? No admonitions? No wise thoughts to send me on my way?”

“This is not what I want, Gar.”

“Nor I, but here we are.” He squeezed Dom’s hand. “Remember me as a bright-eyed youth, sparring with my best friend. Remember me as a young assassin with a future, flying wing-to-wing beside you.”

Dom swallowed the rock in his throat as he nodded. “You can still accompany me to Angor and heal there.”

Gar laughed, a death rattle. “Remember me as a Flesh Eater you had to extinct because you are the honorable Immortal I failed to be. Goodbye, my dearest friend. Now finish the fucking task.”

“I cannot.” Dom rose, his legs wobbly.

“You must.” His eyes grew hungry. “I will regenerate, and I desire female flesh. I will tear a lissome body limb from limb and bathe in her innards. I will...”

Before he finished his tirade, Dom struck, his sword fully decapitating his childhood friend and comrade. He uttered the words, his voice tremulous, “May my blade bring you peace.”

Gar’s body began the slow process of ashing.

As the copper-winged assassin ceased to exist, Dom felt no victory. He flew from the site to the OneCreator to report on his assignment and to seek aid for Gar’s victim. The boss’s response was a single nod.

The OC unslung his leg from the arm of his throne, rose to his full height, and strode down the steps that separated him from his subjects. He reached out a hand to heal Dom’s eye.

“No. I will keep this reminder.”

After hesitating, he rested his hand on Dom’s bloodied injury, shooting an agonizing spark into it to prevent it from repairing itself. “What is done can be undone.”

“Never,” swore Dom. He left Sanctuary Keep determined never to allow anyone to get as close to him again.

After he had rid OneWorld of the fifth member of the Feard, Dom forgot how to smile and how to have fun. He distanced himself from his brother assassins or anyone who desired love or friendship. That way, if they suffered a malady, he could do his job. No bother.

Dom changed. No more reckless adventures. He thought through all sides of a situation before moving forward. A part of him longed to be wild again. But somehow, when he’d extincted Gareth, that Dom disappeared.

He blamed Michael for being the prosecutor and for being unavailable when Gar had escaped, leaving Dom to the dirty work of extincting his best friend. He even cast blame on the OC. Mostly, he lay the fault at his own feet for not seeing what had been brewing in plain sight.

Though he had not prevented Gareth’s demise, he had learned a lesson. A harsh one he’d never forget. But now, soaring through the air, he questioned the lesson. He had labeled Gar as a victim of his malady, an unwitting sufferer, an unwilling Flesh Eater who couldn’t fight the disease. But was that true? Or was his friend responsible for his own actions?

After all, Madeline, once a mere human, had made him promise to prevent her from hurting anyone. “Swear it,” she’d said. Her first instinct had been to protect others.

Dom was an ass. Instead of understanding what Maddy was going through, he had withdrawn into his past. She was not Gar. She was not a victim. She was a fighter.

But she couldn’t fight alone. She needed him. And what had he done? He’d left.

Madeline was more important than he’d admitted to himself. He would tell her about Gar and how she was different. He’d stay by her side, keep her safe, and prevent her from harming others. Nobody would assign her to Angor’s punishments. Nobody would extinct her. While he searched for a cure, he’d be her jailer, reformer, friend, confidant, and lover.

He did, however, begin to see Gar in a new light. Through the centuries, Dom had blamed himself for not recognizing his friend’s decline. Yet, never in his fellow assassin’s descent into madness had Gar asked for help.

Gareth had lacked Maddy’s strength of character.

Dom changed direction and streaked across the sky, heading for home and the female who needed him.

****

M addy raced into the salon from the bedroom when she heard the shush of wings. She stopped, leaning against the door jamb, cocking one foot over the other. When Dom threw out his arms, she resisted running into them. She was pissed.

Dom clasped his hands behind his back. “I’ve been an idiot.”

She angled her head to gaze into his eye.

“No comment?” he asked.

“None needed. I agree. You’ve been an idiot.” She crossed her arms under her breasts, her posture speaking volumes about her feelings.

“I never should have left you alone to deal with the problems.”

Maddy frowned. “No. You shouldn’t have, but you did.”

“I did. I had my reasons. They aren’t good enough ones, though.”

“I understand about Gareth, but I’m not him, Dom. You abandoned me when I needed you most. A lifetime of assholes have deserted me. I want someone who’ll have my back. It’s not too much to ask.”

“It’s not.”

“And yet, it happened. Again. You broke my heart and threw it away as though it were a piece of trash.”

He winced. “I never intended to do that. It was my problem, and I was a selfish asshole. What do I need to do to win you back?”

“What if I said you can’t?”

“I wouldn’t believe you, Maddy. Please let me put your heart back together. I know you’ve patched mine up.”

Was that really how Dom felt? Maddy studied him. He looked sincere. And when he spread his arms wide, she ran into them as if he hadn’t been an idiot. She jumped, locking her legs around his waist. “Promise never to leave me.”

“I promise. Never again.”

She arched her back to stare into his good eye. “That was too fast. Take a minute to think about it because I won’t give you a second chance.”

“I don’t need more time. And you’ve already forgiven me.” He leaned close, nibbling her neck, kissing her jaw, capturing her lips.

“Uh huh,” she mumbled as he worked hard to convince her he’d been an idiot.