Darkness gave way to the blinding sun. He stood in the desert wearing gear from his army recon days. Shimmering heat dissolved, revealing Thane and the team, also dressed in desert camouflage, yards ahead. They beckoned him to join them. He took a step and stopped. The day Dalir had saved them. That’s what his was reminiscent of. It was an illusion, a trick. Kell had gotten inside.
The vision of the desert disappeared. The dusty wood building replaced it. Strong energy vibrated in the air.
A hazy image of Kell facing off with Dalir emerged. No longer in refined modern clothes, Kell sported dark pants tucked into boots. Golden armor formed to his torso. Kell lunged at Dalir with a sword in his hand.
Dalir dressed similarly to Kell countered the stab but did not move out of the way quick enough. A line of crimson appeared on his bicep. He sliced his blade down.
The tip scraped over Kell’s armor.
Dalir’s cool, calm expression remained. “You can’t win.”
“Check the score card, brother.” Kell held the sword with two hands and took a balanced stance. “You tried to kill me once and failed. Humanity’s weakness taints your blood.”
The ancients circled. In between volleys of spark-raising strikes, metal slithered against metal. The ground shook. Wood groaned and shuddered. A corner of the building collapsed. Puffs of dust dispersed into the air.
Dalir spun and swung down in a high arch.
Kell blocked too late. He grabbed his throat, eyes wide as if in disbelief as blood seeped through his fingers.
Reid’s heart thundered against his sore ribs. End him.
Phase power rose from Kell’s feet. He vanished in a swirl of reddish gold.
“No.” Reid wheezed. He wanted to sit up. His body refused. Light swirled. As he flew upward, he shut down his mind and descended back into darkness.
Lauren sat on the edge of the gray chair in Dalir’s sunroom and gulped whiskey from a tumbler. The sun beaming through a domed glass ceiling failed to melt the icy chill locked in her bones. Raiding the liquor cabinet helped.
Celine slid the other chair closer. “Are you sure that’s what he said? Thane never mentioned Dalir having a brother.”
“I don’t think Dalir told them.” Hands shaking, she picked up the decanter from the round blue-tiled table in front of her. As she poured, amber liquid sloshed over her fingers. “If Kell is an ancient, imagine what he’s doing to Reid…”
Celine sat back, failing to mask a flicker of alarm. “Dalir will find him.”
Alive or dead?
Heavy footfalls came down the hallway.
Thane rushed in. His grim expression told her everything.
She plunked her glass on the table and shot up. “Where is he?”
“Down the hall with Dalir.” He blocked the door. “He’s alive, but—”
Lauren pulled out of his grasp and ran, Celine at her heels. Her bare feet slid over the polished wood as she turned the corner.
Late afternoon sun radiated out the door at the end of the hall in prisms of light.
Reid was slumped over Dalir’s shoulder.
As she got closer, she saw the bloody slashes crisscrossing his back.
Dalir laid him on the bed and his arms flopped on the snowy white sheets. His palms and fingers pointed in unnatural directions.
She stumbled, stopping short of entering the room. Horror clutched and held on tight.
The door slammed shut in her face.
“No!” She twisted the knob, banged on the door, but Dalir wouldn’t open it.
Sobbing, she slid to the floor and laid her cheek on the cool wood. What had Kell done?
Celine hugged her. “It’s okay.” Her voice cracked. “Dalir will help him.”
“Did you see his hands?” Nausea rose. “And his back. He beat him.”
Celine trembled as she tried to pull her up. “Thane will come get us.”
“I can’t leave him.” She squirmed out of Celine’s grasp. “He sacrificed himself to save me. If he dies, it’s my fault.”
Celine wrapped an arm around her as she cried.
Finally the tears ceased, but words lay buried under numbness. She couldn’t speak. The silence on the other side of the door unnerved her. What was Dalir doing? Why didn’t Reid groan or cry out?
The windows at the other end of the hall darkened with the setting sun. A needed bathroom break forced her to leave.
Celine got up, too, and flipped on the light. She left, and they met back at the bedroom door. Celine held a glass of water and a sandwich cut in two on a saucer. “It’s your favorite. PB and J.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat.” Celine held out the saucer. “We’ll share.”
Lauren relented and accepted half the sandwich. She took a bite.
“When it comes to the art of PB and J, I’m a purist.”
Her remembered words echoed. It was as if she could hear the timbre of Reid’s deep chuckle in response. Salty tears intermingled with the taste of smooth peanut butter and grape jelly. What she’d give to go back to that moment. Unable to finish she dropped the sandwich back on the saucer. She accepted a napkin from Celine and dried her cheeks.