Burning Dawn. Gena Showalter

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Burning Dawn - Gena Showalter MIRA

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clawed at his face—he held firm.

      “You’re going to die, and you’re going to come back, and then we’re going to have some fun.” There was absolute, utter command in his voice. “Do you hear me? Don’t you dare try to deny me my retribution by staying dead. You do, and I’ll track your spirit into hell and drag you back.”

      Blood leaked from her eyes and nose and then...then her head flopped to the side. Her motions ceased, and Thane dropped her.

      Elin fought a hot rise of panic. Blood...blood...not much, but enough. Stay calm. Find a happy place. Somewhere. Anywhere but here.

      Thane threw his head back and released a war-hungry roar.

      Anyone unaware of what was going on suddenly understood. Warriors noticed their fallen comrades on the ground and charged toward Thane. His back was to them. He didn’t know he was about to be tackled.

      Elin cried out, distressed. Then Thane squared his shoulders, flared his wings—so long, so glorious, art in motion—and spun, a sword of fire appearing in one hand, a short sword in the other.

      The Phoenix moved too quickly to backpedal and avoid impact.

      He was calculated, methodical and lethal as he sliced through their ranks. Appendages fell. Bodies followed. Blood splattered and gushed.

      Dizziness. Nausea. More heat.

      Don’t scream. Please, don’t scream.

      She’d witnessed this much devastation before, the day her father and husband were killed by the very men being dismembered. The only reason Elin had been spared was her mother. The beautiful Renlay had agreed to return to camp as a breeder, sleeping with whomever the king desired, so that she would give birth to full-blooded warriors for the rest of her miserable life.

      Elin had been her insurance policy.

      Renlay had become pregnant right away. But then, four months ago, both she and the child died. Neither regenerated.

      The agony of Elin’s loss was still so terribly fresh. A wound that had yet to heal.

      A wound that might not ever heal.

      Finally, a reckoning had come. She should enjoy it.

      Tears tracked down her cheeks, a scorching deluge.

      An arm went flying through the air—without a body attached. A foot soon joined it. What little calm she’d managed to retain left her in a puff of smoke, and she hunched over to vomit.

      In a desperate bid to end Thane, the final soldier threw a ball of fire at him. A very foolish move. Creating the ball zapped the rest of the male’s strength.

      Thane easily dodged, his wings snapping together. Then he stepped forward—only to disappear from view. He must have entered the spirit realm, becoming unseen to the ungifted eye. A few seconds later, as if he’d flown the distance, he reappeared directly in front of the culprit.

      Head—severed. Blood jetted from the open artery.

      Elin vomited again, saying goodbye to the rest of her measly breakfast...and maybe even parts of her stomach. At least the battle was over. Violently. Brutally. But over and done.

      Across the way, a tent erupted with flames. Crap. The fireball had not extinguished. Smoke curled through the air, thick and dark, drifting toward her, stinging her eyes and nose. Still, she remained where she was, just as she’d been told. Thane’s rage and bloodlust would soon fade—please, fade—and he would remember her. He—

      Pivoted on his heel to look back at her, his expression dark with manic satisfaction. Icy fingers of dread crept through her. This is the man I’m going to trust to escort me back to civilization?

      She stepped backward, the decimated remains of the bed stopping her.

      “Female. Come here.”

      Before she could take a step forward—was she really going to move closer?—two other Sent Ones appeared in the camp, claiming Thane’s attention.

      Expert trackers...cold-blooded killers. The males were just as tall as Thane, just as muscled...just as intimidating. Maybe more so. They looked to be worked into frothing tempers.

      They reminded her of rabid wolves.

      She had a choice to make: fight or flight?

      Did she really need to think about it? Flight! Surviving the desert and surrounding safari on her own would be difficult, but difficult beat insane any day.

      As quietly as possible, she inched to the side, away from the males. If she drew their notice...

      Careful...

      Another inch...

      She froze when Thane squeezed the shoulder of the guy on his left. The one with bronzed skin veined in gold and multicolored eyes glistening with violent determination.

      The one on the right nodded, as if answering an unspoken question. His white hair was slicked back from his face, revealing the palest skin she’d ever seen, with tiny scars etched over every inch. Not exactly model-attractive...unless he was doing a spread for Hell on Earth Magazine. His freaky, neon-red eyes were straight out of a nightmare.

      She gathered what little courage she possessed...and gained another inch.

      The three warriors angled toward each other, forming a private circle smoldering with emotion—a sweet emotion that astonished her. Joy. Relief. Sorrow. Love. So much love. Despite everything that had happened, the worst of her fears were assuaged.

      Without a word, the three males branched apart and vanished.

      Elin spun, searching for any sign of the trio’s presence, finding none. Perfect. She swept through the surrounding area, gathering the things she needed: a canteen of water, a blanket and a bag to carry food.

      Neon returned, seeming to step through thin air, and she jolted, a scream brewing in the back of her throat. He lifted two motionless bodies from the ground, unaware or unconcerned by Elin’s presence, and threw them in her direction. They landed at her feet, blood leaking from the bodies, pooling, winding around her. She began to tremble.

      Rainbow came back next, then Thane, and the three continued to add bodies to the pile. The death...the destruction.

      Do not vomit. Do you hear me? Do. Not. Vomit.

      She must have made a noise. Neon’s gaze hit her with laserlike intensity. Gasping, she dropped her bundle and backed away. He stomped toward her, moving around the wall of death. The scream finally fought its way free...and just...never...stopped. Sharp pains ravaged her throat as her already damaged larynx protested further abuse.

      Strong hands cupped her cheeks. “Female.”

      Thane’s midnight-fantasies voice penetrated the haze of panic.

      She blinked into focus. Piercing blue eyes watched her, diamond hard and determined. He was all that she saw. All that she wanted to see.

      “You’re

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