Forget Me Not

Forget Me Not Page 12

A man stood in the kitchen, his pale bluish face twisted with anger. Harsh words she didn’t understand were propelled from his cruel lips, stabbing her ears.

“Toren,” was the only word she caught as he stalked toward her.

His black hair fanned out around his head like a wild mane. He wore only a scrap of leather to hide his groin, and in his fist was a wicked, black blade, gleaming with evil intent.

She’d seen that blade before, in Toren’s memories, only then it had been dripping with purple blood.

Adria backed up, accidentally shutting the door behind her, trapping herself in with the man. He grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head into the solid wood. A mewl of surprise and pain squeaked from her raw throat, too low and quiet for anyone to hear.

She felt a heavy sucking sensation flow through her mind as he pulled something from her. She tried to lash out with her hands and feet, but it was like kicking a monolith. He didn’t even flinch.

His red eyes brightened, boring into her. A sick smile of malicious intent curled his mouth. “I have found him,” he said in halting English. “You have served your purpose.”

A heartbeat later, Adria’s body was hurtling across the room. She saw the stone of the fireplace careening toward her, felt a jolting impact, and then… nothing.

Toren felt Adreeahbenwah’s fear and pain as keenly as if it were his own. She’d been unhappy and worried—that had eaten at him and made him fight the urge to go and ease her—but this was different. Something terrible had happened.

Panic tore at him, shocking to life the dark and dangerous part of himself that he kept contained outside of battle. He charged through the trees, the wet branches biting at his skin. His power tingled in his fingertips, begging to be put to use.

There was some reason he wasn’t supposed to summon his power, but as he crashed through the forest, he could not think of a single reason why he should not incinerate whatever—whoever—had caused his sweet Adreeahbenwah’s pain.

As he neared the cabin, he began to feel a familiar presence. It was darker than he remembered, with streaks of malevolence tainting its surface. One of his kind. Masculine. Deadly.

Grynar, the beast who had killed Elina. And now he was alone with Adria.

A roar of defiance erupted from Toren’s chest, dragging with it an edge of power. It blasted against the cabin’s door, shattering it to splinters.

Through the golden opening, he saw Grynar standing over Adria’s body. She was crumpled on the floor, bright red blood leaking from her head. A sinister black thalac blade was gripped in Grynar’s fist, poised to strike through his Adreeahbenwah’s delicate skin.

Rage, so dark and bleak it felt like the shell of a burned-out home, took over Toren’s body, launching him at the man who’d killed his sister. He had no weapon, but his power rose to his call, seething with eager anticipation.

A bolt of black desolation shot toward Grynar, singeing away the flesh along his shoulder.

Grynar screamed in pain. He left Adria where she lay, and stalked toward Toren.

There was little magic left within him. He had no weapons. Grynar was a skilled warrior. But there was one thing he did not possess—one power he would never have at his call: Love.

Toren summoned his love for his sister, his family and his Adreeahbenwah. He let that power buoy him up and fill him with strength. It was for them that he would defeat this monster—for them he would rid the universe of the soulless creature standing before him.

With the utter confidence of a man who knew the future, Toren stood there and waited for Grynar to charge.

“Why do you wait?” demanded Grynar. “Come and fight me.”

Toren said nothing. He simply watched as the anger and hatred chewed on the other man, eating him alive from the inside out.

“Shall I gut the whore the same way I gutted Elina?”

Toren let the taunt slide over him, letting not a single flicker of emotion alter his calm expression. He backed up, moving outside so that there was no chance of Adria getting hurt again.

“Coward! I saw your failed attempt to come home. I thought you would want to fight me as a man, but now you run from me like a child.”

Toren said nothing. He merely waited for Grynar’s anger to defeat him.

“You thought you could come home and avenge Elina, did you not? You thought I deserved to die for what I did. But it was her fault. She provoked me. I warned her to stop, but she was always too unruly, too disobedient.”

Words burned Toren’s throat. He wanted to shout that Elina had done nothing to deserve her fate, but there was no point in wasting his breath. Grynar was twisted and rotted to the bone. There was no reasoning with a man like that.

Finally, in the face of Toren’s silence, Grynar’s rage took control. He tucked his chin low, lifted the thalac blade and charged through the doorway into the rain.

Toren had the advantage of shadows. He swept his shirt off, and as Grynar closed to melee, Toren twisted the wet fabric around the blade to divert it from his heart. The soggy shirt clung to itself, caging the sword that had killed his sister.

From there, the course of the battle changed fast. Toren now had control of Grynar’s arm, because his hatred would not allow him to let go of the weapon. Toren twisted the other man’s arm until the bone snapped and he screamed in pain.

That sound washed over Toren, leaving him unaffected. He found no joy in it, no satisfaction. It was merely an indicator of success—one Toren was going to hear again.

Grynar wrapped his massive hand around Toren’s throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off his air. A flutter of fear rose up for a split second. And then he caught sight of Adreeahbenwah lying motionless on the floor, and the wisp of fear evaporated.

Grynar was going to die, because it was the only way Toren could reach his sweet Adreeahbenwah’s side.

He found the gaping hole he had blown in the other man’s arm and shoved his thumb into the wound. A torrent of purple blood flowed over Toren’s hand. Grynar screamed again, only this time it was as much fear as pain coloring his voice.

The fabric-covered blade wobbled in Grynar’s grip. Toren wrenched it away, hearing broken bones grating against each other.

Grynar tightened the hand on Toren’s throat, but it was not going to be enough to alter the course of events.

Toren reversed the thalac blade that had tasted the blood of his beloved sister and shoved it through Grynar’s diseased heart.

Grynar’s eyes widened in shock. His grip on Toren’s neck went slack. Slowly, he lost his strength and began to crumple to the ground.

Toren stepped back and let him fall, feeling nothing but a sense of completion. No victory. No triumph. Only the vague satisfaction of having finished a job left undone for too long.

He kicked Grynar into the crater as the man died. Then Toren turned and walked away, letting all thoughts of the other man fade from his mind. The only thing that mattered now was his fragile Adreeahbenwah.

Toren hurried back into the cabin and fell to her side, gathering her up in his arms. Red blood stained her face and neck. She felt so small and delicate. Her head lolled limply over his arm, and the warmth had fled her skin.

The gash on her head was deep. He could see bone beneath her gaping skin. Already a lump had formed, helping stem the steady flow of blood, but not stopping it. He pressed his hand to her heart, searching for its reassuring beat. It was there, but so faint he was not sure how long it would keep going.

He did not know enough about human medicine to save her. All he had at his disposal was the last few sparks of power within him. If he spent them, all memories of his home and family would be obliterated. There would be no going home. He would not even remember he had a home to which he should go.

Amazingly, the decision was an easy one. He loved Adria. Her life was more important than his memories. Now that Grynar was dead, his family was safe. Elina was avenged.

For the very last time, Toren summoned his power. It flowed easily into his sweet Adreeahbenwah, as if it wanted to be a part of her.

The gash on her head closed shut. The swelling shrank until there were no signs of it. Even the bruises along her skin faded.

Her fathomless, dark eyes opened.

Something inside his mind shifted as if a door had been sealed and locked. It did not matter. Whatever it was, it was not nearly as important as the woman in his arms opening her eyes.

“What happened?” she asked.

He paused, unsure. “You were hurt. You are better now, yes?”

She nodded and reached for her head. Her fingers came away wet with blood.

“I closed your wound. We will wash the blood away and you will feel well.”

“I feel fine now. Who was that man?”

“What man?” asked Toren, feeling as though he should know what she meant.

“The one who threw me into the fireplace.”

He brushed her hair away from her forehead. She needed to wash away the blood before it dried and caked in her soft hair. “He is gone now,” said Toren, feeling the truth of his words, even though he wasn’t sure how he knew. “You are safe.”

Toren carried her into the bathroom and made water flow through the overhead spigot. Once it was warm enough, he stripped Adria of her clothes and helped her climb under the spray. His own clothes fell to the floor in a squishy pile, covered in two colors of blood.

The sight tugged at his mind, but nothing could tear his attention away from the beauty standing before him.

She was silent and shaking, barely able to hold the soap. He took it from her and cleaned away all signs of blood, both red and purple. Once she was warm and clean, he tucked her into bed and crawled in beside her.

“It’s almost dawn,” she said, as if that were supposed to mean something to him.

“You should rest.”

“I thought you wanted to be alone tonight.”

“Why would I want that when I can be by your side?”

“You don’t remember, do you?” she asked, tears shining in her eyes.

She looked so troubled, he had to find a way to reassure her. “I remember everything that is important. I remember that I love you.”

Adreeahbenwah’s eyes shut, squeezing out glittering tears. “I love you, too. And that’s why I will remember for you.”

He didn’t know what that meant, but it mattered little. Once she rested she would feel better. All this talk of remembering would go away and he would make her smile again. Seeing her smile was the only thing that truly mattered.

There was only an hour before sunrise, and Adria was going to use that to collect as many memories of Toren as she could. Once he was gone, she would grieve for him, but for now, he was here. He was hers.

And he loved her.

She hadn’t realized how much that would mean to her until he’d said the words. It made letting go of him harder and easier all at the same time. She was going to miss him, but she could take comfort in the knowledge that he was happy and safe at home, where he belonged.

Adria wiped away her tears and rolled on top of Toren. His hands stroked down her back, leaving a path of warmth trailing behind them.

She leaned down and kissed him, refusing to think of the future. For now, there was only the feel of his hard body beneath hers and the soft brush of his lips. The kiss was flavored with new love, so sweet and full of hope it nearly broke her heart. Each touch of his hand shimmered through her, giving her the strength she needed to get through what she knew she had to do.