Primal Heat 05 - Darkness Reborn

neared the edge of the crevasse. Don't think about Ryland. Don't think about the bruises. Think only about the fact that I made you call my weapon, and you did it. I have the power to resist, and you have the power to defend yourself.
    She nodded, her mouth suddenly dry as they reached the edge. One step over it, and the assault on her senses would start.
    Kane set his hand on the back of her neck, his touch strong and protective. "Focus only on your strength, Sarah. Trust your team. There is no other way."
    Thano raised his halberd over Sarah's head, and Kane did the same with his flail. The weapons clinked as they made contact. Sarah? Slowly, she raised Kane's other flail and let it rest against the other two.
    They all looked at Ryland. For a long moment, he simply stared into the blackness of the pit. He took a step, one foot disappearing into the blackness. Literally. His foot was gone. Ryland cursed under his breath, then raised his machete and slammed it against the other three weapons. The crash ripped through the night and vibrated all the way down Sarah's arm, but she immediately felt a shift in the air between the three men.
    They were a team again, to the death.
    They lowered their weapons, then as a unit, they moved forward. Kane slipped his fingers around her wrist, locking his grip in an iron band that she knew nothing would be able to break through. He was making sure there would always be physical contact between them so he could teleport her to safety. She glanced up at him, and he shot her a brief smile before looking past her into the darkness.
    Sarah paused as they reached the edge, concentrating on the wetness of her skin from the water and Kane's grip on her arm. Then she took a deep breath, embraced the nightmare that had been stalking her for her entire life, and stepped off the edge into the void.

Chapter Twelve
    His stallion's feet were silent on the forest floor, the iron-shod hooves leaving no prints in the dirt. Warwick Cardiff bent low over his steed's neck, the animal's black mane whipping against Warwick's chest. Beneath him, his mount's muscles strained, sweat caked on the horse's neck and shoulders. The power of the beast was extraordinary, and Warwick urged him onward, riding hard, both the mount and the rider exhilarating in the display of strength and power. Deathbringer had been Warwick's mount for over a hundred years, and the partnership was far tighter than simply man and beast. It was an intertwining of souls, the one living entity on the earth that Warwick could trust.
    They burst out of the woods, and the animal leapt over the rubble of buildings that no longer stood, his hooves silent even on the rocky pebbles. Before him, stepping out from the shadows was the man...the creature...Warwick had come to see.
    Warwick reined his steed to a halt, stopping inches from the man lurking in the shadows. He looked down at the creature whose eyes were like bottomless pits of hell, whose skin was stretched across his skeleton like the burned-out hide of an animal long dead. "Luc," he said, not dismounting. He knew better than to trust these creatures who roamed the woods.
    Luc Acostos went down on one knee, bowing to Warwick while Deathbringer danced restlessly, his massive hooves thudding dangerously close to Luc's feet. "My lord," he said. "The pieces are in place."
    "You lost him," Warwick said, dripping his disdain over the demonic creature before him. "You had him, and you let him go."
    Luc's head snapped up, his eyes glittering dangerously. "Santiago is strong. That's why he's the one I need."
    "I don't give a shit about what you need." Warwick glared down at him. "The angel must die. Santiago is the key to that, and you need to make sure it happens." He pulled a rose out of his black cape, crumpled it in his hand, and then flung it at Luc's feet. "Or she will be gone forever."
    Luc made a noise of agony, of such distress, that Warwick smiled. He knew that kind of pain, and he knew Luc would do whatever it took to save the woman he loved. Warwick knew it, because that was what had driven him for the last seven hundred years. Redemption for the woman who had died in his arms.
    Disgust curled Warwick's lip as Luc gathered the crushed red petals, cradling them in his hands as if they were the greatest treasure known to humankind. "Tonight, Luc."
    Tonight was when the Order of the Blade was going to begin to fall. Finally. Completely. Until it was nothing but ashes and smoldering