Burning Dawn
Page 55

The red-eyed Sent One moved in front of her, blocking her path to the door. He was just as tall as Thane, just as muscled, but while Thane had once looked at her with tenderness, this one never had and didn’t start now.
I’m about to go swimming in a crap storm, aren’t I?
“I’m going to create a mental bond with you, female.”
Uh. What? “No, thanks.”
“Xerxes.” A frowning Bjorn sidled up to the warrior’s side. “He won’t like it.”
“Not at first.”
“Maybe not ever.”
“But one day, he’ll thank me for it.”
“Someone clue me in before I have a coronary,” she demanded. “What kind of mental bond? Why do you want it? What will it do to me? Not that it matters. My answer isn’t going to change.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not giving you a choice.” He flattened his hands against her temples, his fingers spearing through her hair. “I’ll be able to send my thoughts into your mind, and you’ll be able to send yours into mine. We can communicate without ever having to speak a word, no matter the distance between us.”
Too much to process. “No.”
“Yes. Creating this bond with non–Sent Ones is an ability only Thane, Bjorn and myself possess. A gift we received from the Most High after our time in the... Just after. This way, you can summon me if ever you get into trouble.”
“No,” she insisted.
“Consider it an honor. We’ve never done this for anyone else.”
“I don’t want to stay in contact with you.” Once she left the club, she would be gone for good. There would be no looking back. No wishing for what could have been.
“This is in your best interest,” he said, ignoring her protest.
She tried to wiggle from his grip, but he held steady. “Let me go, you winged behemoth, before I do something—” The rest of the sentence died in her mouth.
Jagged pain ripped through her, and she groaned. Was that a hammer slamming its way through her skull and cerebral cortex?
Light flashed across her mind, then scenes from her past played in Technicolor. Her mother, clutching her dead baby to her chest, gasping out, his name...Amil, means hope.... She’d given him a name when he’d never even taken a breath.
Her father’s head rolling past her, stopping. His dulled gaze peering at Elin as she trembled under the table.
Bay, falling, landing in a contorted heap in front of her.
“You’re so vulnerable...so open,” the warrior gritted. “At least try to block me from your memories.”
Try? How?
The Phoenix calling her hateful names, hurting her, degrading her. Peeling away her pride day by day.
She gritted her teeth and imagined shoving Xerxes away. It did no good. Her back bowed as pain, oh, the pain, consumed her. What she’d felt before? Nothing compared to this. A loud ringing erupted in her ears. A sheet of endless black fell over her eyes.
She was dying. She had to be dying.
Elin. Elin, sweetheart, you’re not dying. I need you to open your eyes.
No, the pain—
Is fading. I’ve left your mind.
Realizing he was correct, that the hammer had stopped pounding, she fluttered open her eyelids. Xerxes and Bjorn watched her with concern and curiosity—and now, Xerxes’s expression was heartbreakingly soft.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she spat, barely quelling the urge to slap him.
He sighed. “I give you my word. I will never again invade your thoughts without an invitation.”
“Good. Because I’ll be issuing an invitation in never!” She didn’t like his voice in her head. The words whispered through her, a wind she could feel in every cell. A foreign invasion. Unwelcome in every way.
“Very well,” he said. “But if ever you need me, simply think of me and project your words at the image. I will hear and I will find you.” He offered his hand, palm up. “Now, would you like to return to Arizona?”
“Without the Phoenix?”
“Without the Phoenix.”
“On my own?” she asked, just to be clear.
He nodded.
Her gaze swept through the suite, taking one last look at the luxury Thane enjoyed. Luxury she could have shared with him, if only his hatred hadn’t gotten in the way. Her heart hardened. “Yes. I’m ready.”
* * *
THANE DARTED THROUGH the evening sky at a furious, reckless pace. Wind slapped at him. His muscles burned. He welcomed the pain.
Elin was Phoenix. Half human, half soulless flame-eater. Sex with her could have enthralled him. Ruined him. He could have become mindless all over again.
Very few creatures possess the ability, and none who are weakened by human blood. You know this.
Didn’t matter. It wasn’t worth the risk. She affected him more than anyone else ever had, and had from minute one. She could be the exception.
Then why didn’t you taste a lie when she spoke about her husband?
Enough! He wanted to pluck out the rational part of his brain and watch it splatter on the surface of the earth. He didn’t like how out of control Elin made him feel—and hated that he actually yearned to spin out of control again. With her. Only with her. He didn’t want to remember that he’d felt only jealousy at her pointed mention of once sleeping with another man, followed closely by humiliation that he had once fallen prey to Kendra.
Elin knew his feelings about her race, and yet she still let him kiss her. Let him touch her. Bring her to climax twice—and even experience his own.
What, she was just supposed to confess and accept your rage as her due?
Another unwelcome observation. Another he ignored, plodding ahead with his ranting. She could have been planning to aid the Phoenix all along.
Please.
Why else would she refuse to give him the names of those who had hurt her? Because she hadn’t actually been hurt!
Or, because she despises the sight of blood, isn’t used to violence, and wanted to prevent more.
Thane rolled to the left to avoid hitting a flock of birds. What did he know about the girl, beyond any shadow of doubt?
She smelled of cherries. She tasted of them, too. She was soft to the touch and melted when he approached. Sometimes she looked at him with equal parts awe and apprehension. Sometimes she looked at him with insatiable hunger.
She had scars on her hands and back. Scars he should have kissed when he’d had the chance. She grew more beautiful every time he looked at her.