Burning Dawn
Page 2

The twenty or so men and women were on a yearlong probation, their every action scrutinized. One more screwup, and they would be adiosed forever.
The grapevine hadn’t stopped there. The male directly below the Most High was named Germanus, and he was the Sent Ones’ boss. Or rather, had been. Germanus was killed recently by demons. But before his death—obviously—he controlled the Elite Seven, the seven men and women who were the fiercest of the fierce, and the leaders of those seven defensive forces. After his death, the Most High appointed a new second-in-command, Clerici, and this Clerici guy had tweaked some long-standing rules.
Before: do not harm anyone or thing but demons.
After: unless a fellow Sent One is being held against his will.
Then, and only then, the entire race could play a Kill Everyone Card.
Elin’s takeaway: once Sex On Legs’ army buddies found out what had happened to him, everyone in the village would bathe in blood. And—if the expert-tracker thing proved true—bath time would come soon.
Have to be long gone by then.
“Woman!” he bellowed, his voice more smoke than substance. And yet, that one word dripped with command, expectation and raw animal carnality.
She shivered with vibrant anticipation.
Reacting to him, too? Why don’t you just chop off your own head and call it good?
He belonged to Kendra the Merry Widow, Princess of Clan Firebird; she’d addicted him to the poison her body produced, a nonlethal substance worse than any drug, making him desperate for her touch. Then she’d cinched the deal by tricking him into killing her.
With Kendra, everything began and ended with death.
Shortly after drawing her final breath, she flamed to ash, reformed and rose again, the bond between mistress and slave firmly in place.
Apparently, she’d done the same to six of her husbands—and was currently doing it to her seventh, who was away from camp at the moment, the lucky jerk. Because, when she tired of her men, she cut out...and ate...their hearts, ensuring they stayed dead.
A shudder crawled the length of Elin’s spine.
As punishment, the late King Krull, Kendra’s father, had bound her with slave-chains to negate her abilities and sold her on the black market.
Where and when the Sent One had come into play, Elin wasn’t sure. She only knew he’d returned Kendra to camp decades later, dropping her from the sky and flying away. Krull, thinking the time apart had mellowed her, had removed the chains and given her to his third-in-command, Ricker the War Ender.
But with her abilities fully restored, she’d been able to addict Ricker to her poison, and gain his permission to leave the camp to hunt the Sent One.
The princess was sweet like that.
“Woman! Now!”
Elin swallowed a dreamy sigh. Even laced with anger and annoyance, the Sent One’s voice elicited images of strawberries dipped in warm, rich chocolate. Mmm. Chocolate.
Maybe I should help him.
The thought struck her, surprising her. She wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with courage, and to be effective, she’d have to endanger her own life. But if she could free the male from the princess’s bond, she could use him to escape.
Elin pored through every bit of information she’d gleaned during her enslavement but came up with only a few ways to free him. None that were particularly helpful. She could kill him, but that kinda threw a wrench in her plan, because he wouldn’t come back to life. She could kill Kendra (again), but the princess would come back to life, and Elin would have a very determined enemy for the rest of her (probably) short, (definitely) miserable life. Like the Sent One, death was the end for her.
Elin was half Phoenix, half “weak, lowly human,” with zero abilities to show for her dual parentage. And it sucked, because here—or in any immortal colony, really—halflings were an abomination. A stain against the race. A threat to the vigor of the bloodline.
She’d known she was half-immortal, but she’d had no idea she was so despised, living in happy ignorance until a group of Phoenix ambushed her mother, Renlay, a little over a year ago. All because her mother—a full-blooded soldier—had fallen in love with Elin’s father—a human—and had deserted her clan to be with him. As punishment, the group murdered Elin’s father, as well as sweet, innocent Bay.
So much loss... She tried to ignore the knot growing in her throat.
She and Renlay were taken prisoner. Then, four months ago, Renlay experienced the ultimate death. It happened to all Phoenix eventually—even if their hearts weren’t eaten—leaving Elin alone, so alone, suffering in the cruelest of ways, battling loneliness, grief, sorrow. Heartbreak.
Oh, the heartbreak. It was a constant companion. Cruel and merciless, darkening her days and soaking her nights with tears.
To be honest, the beatings and degradation did not compare to the torture of her emotions. Not even when she was treated like a dog, told to eat her meals on her hands and knees, without the use of her hands. Not even when she was made to take care of her bladder’s needs in front of a laughing audience.
Elin blinked away tears.
In a sick, twisted way, she kind of...welcomed the abuse, she supposed. After all, she deserved it. Her parents and Bay had been strong and brave. She was a weak coward.
Why had she lived and not them?
Why did she continue to live?
As if you don’t know.
Her mother’s final words echoed in her mind. Whatever proves necessary, my darling, do it. Survive. Do not allow my sacrifice to be in vain.
“Woman! Need. Now.” The Sent One once again ripped her from the past. He neared the river...neared her....
Soon, he would pass by, and the opportunity would be lost....
Her hand twitched as she debated whether or not to palm the glass shard another prisoner—now gone—had given her. A shard she’d hidden in the fabric of her leather dress, just in case one of the males decided to stop looking at her and start taking. She would have to do something drastic to break through the Sent One’s obsession long enough to capture his attention. Maybe cutting him would do the trick. Maybe not. Maybe it would enrage him, and he would snap her neck with a single flick of his wrist.
Should she risk punishment? Death?
Decision time.
Pro: there was no better time for an escape. Many in the camp were distracted, as King Ardeo—who’d replaced the late Krull—had taken his most trusted men to who-knows-where to hunt Petra, Kendra’s aunt, the Phoenix who had murdered Malta, Krull’s widow and Kendra’s mother and, for a short time, Ardeo’s most beloved concubine.