Unmade (Unborn #4) - Amber Lynn Natusch Page 0,45
it to heel. There was no time for that.
“Where have you been hiding?” Kaine asked, stepping forward from his legion of black-winged killers.
“Who says I have been hiding at all?”
“You have not been here,” he said, indicating the Victorian, “and you have not been in the Underworld.”
“I have. In fact, I just left there not long ago.”
“But you are not living there.”
“No, I am not.”
He took a step closer and Oz tensed, his wings ruffling behind me.
“It hardly matters. You are here now.”
“You seem irritated, Kaine,” I said, matching his advance, though being careful to remain out of reach. “Is that because I freed your prisoner, or because I escaped before you could kill me?”
His eyes narrowed. “If I wished you dead, you would be.”
Oz bristled at my side. “I wouldn’t talk shit after what she did to your boys, Kaine. She wasn’t even trying that hard.”
The Dark Ones on the roof fanned out around Kaine, the anger and hatred in their eyes as plain as their forced restraint. Kaine had clearly told them not to make a move, which begged the question as to why, if he truly was out for vengeance.
“Why are you here?” I asked as I took in their numbers and compared them to our own. The odds were far from in our favor, even given who was present.
“I’ve come to make you a deal, Khara, one that I believe you’ll gladly take now that I know what you’re willing to do for those you love.”
“That is a painfully short list, Kaine. Be careful not to overestimate your leverage over me.”
His eyes darted to Oz for a moment, then back to me. “I don’t believe I have.” Oz went suspiciously quiet, and I could not help but wonder why. When I glanced up at his profile, it gave little away; his jaw was tight and fixed, as it always was when Kaine was present. The only thing suddenly absent was his sharp tongue. “I’ll make this short, Khara, because I know you have other issues to deal with at the moment. I want what I have always wanted: you to join me.”
“And I, as I have stated before, do not wish to—”
“You were not properly motivated before,” he said, looking to the sky. “I think you’ll find that’s changed now.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I have an ultimatum for you—one I’m convinced you won’t ignore.”
“Confidence has long been the downfall of powerful men,” I cautioned.
At that, he smiled. “Here is the deal I’m willing to make you: join us so that we, like Oz, can be free.”
My brow furrowed with confusion. “You are free, Kaine. You are beholden to none but yourself, and you have more power than virtually anyone else in existence.”
“Yes,” he said, stepping closer. Oz grabbed my arm and pushed me back. His body edged in front of mine to put himself between Kaine and me. The leader of the Dark Ones frowned but continued. “I am free. They, however, are not. They are bound to me, as Oz should be, which leads me to believe that you are the reason for this—that your bond is what allows it. I want that for all of us.”
Oz’s grip on my arm tightened. “Where’s the ultimatum, Kaine?”
“The ultimatum is that, if she is unwilling to free my Dark Ones, I will take something from her that she dearly loves.”
“If you hurt anything or anyone I care for, all that will do is secure your death and the deaths of those whose freedom you seek.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps you will be too broken with loss to challenge me.”
“Never,” I seethed, daring a glance at Oz.
“We shall see,” he said, voice unfaltering. His wings shot forth, the sharp obsidian feathers gleaming in the light of the sun. “Do you know what these can do, Khara? Why we are so feared in the Underworld? What they can do to the souls that reside there?” Something cold crawled up my spine slowly as realization settled in, and the all-knowing expression on his face told me he knew that I understood. “I wonder what would happen if we were to raid the Elysian Fields, which are filled with fallen PC warriors—what shredding their souls and wiping them from existence would do to you—”
“You will not get the chance,” I said, lifting my arms in anger. But my lightning was sluggish in my veins, fatigue from transporting Oz and myself to the Victorian still present.
“How do you know I have not already?” he