When Sergei stepped back to observe his work, Blaze glanced at the squat, scowling Shax nearby.“How do I look?” he asked.
Someone sniggered, snapping his attention to the creepy, leggy Nybbas on his left.“You make an almost attractive female.”
Glaring at Sergei, who fought a smile, Blaze huffed, examining the rest of their company. The Spellcasters were working on each other, and soon they, too, were identical to the vile creatures he sought to slice to pieces.
The sky had morphed from an orange-red glow to dark blue hues, and finally to inky black that blotted out their light.
They had to move now.
“Spread out. Head for the biggest tent—that’s where Amon will be. We’ll meet back here when we’re done.”
Their backpacks and weapons were piled behind a lonely bush where they’d hopefully go unnoticed.
His comrades fanned out, staying low through the boulders and rubble until they were out of sight.
Blaze, crouching behind a split boulder, waited for two guards to pass in opposite directions. In his normal form his bulk wouldn’t have been concealed, but as a Drude, it worked perfectly. Once both guards were far enough, he rose from his hiding spot, twin swords in hand, and crept toward the light of the campsite.
It was the size of a small city, lanterns, torches, and fires illuminating as far as the eye could see. The raucous laughter and jeering reached his ears long before the first tent came into view. Unlike Asmodeus’s camp, which sat in a valley, Amon’s sat atop a hill. Though he was certain the hill had not been there before the prince’s emergence, which destroyed most of Wuhan.
Cresting the hill at last, Blaze lowered himself, watching groups of Shediem and humans writhe and pulse as one. It was not unheard of—humans fraternizing with monsters—but he couldn’t fathom how they lusted for creatures so far from the human form. His sharpened teeth ground together audibly. The pull inside him to slaughter was almost irresistible, but he forced himself up. He needed to blend in.
Adopting the swagger of a high-level Drude, he sheathed his blades and stalked into the hornet’s nest. He looked like one of them, but that was as far as the façade went. If any of them questioned him, his cover would be blown.
Thanks to the drinks and drugs being passed around, very few eyes turned his way, making it easier than it should have been to slink around tents and wander deeper. After what felt like an hour, the familiar flutter of heat and comfort dropped into his chest.
Emma was near.
His speed increased, and a faint, familiar grunt of pain reached his ears. The sound of a whip cutting through the air then slicing through flesh shredded the calm he’d forced in place. Emma’s muffled cry called to him, carrying his steps faster. Everything was a blur until he burst into the massive canvas tent that he knew held her. The scene before him had him halting, the breath leaving his lungs in a sharp exhalation.
Tied on a wooden cross with her arms wide was Emma. Her mouth was taped, and blood trickled from her split eyebrow, pooling in her eye that had swollen shut. In a black jumpsuit torn and hanging in tatters, it gave him full view of her massacred flesh.
Arms, legs, stomach…all of her, bloodied.
The prince panted, gripping a whip and grinning like an idiot when he spun to face Blaze.“About time you arrived.” His creepy red eyes sparkled like the psychopath he was.
Before Blaze could move, he heard the muttered command, then bright light flashed and ice gripped him with jagged claws. He fought against the Spellcasters’ hold but his body didn’t move an inch.
“I’ve captured all your little friends as well. I plan to simply kill them, but you…” The prince moved with fluid grace and stopped in front of Blaze, flashing his teeth in an expression between disgust and a feral show of dominance that made Blaze want to laugh.
Yet nothing about the situation was funny. They were caught with no form of backup on the way. His friends and fellow soldiers would die for his mistake.
The prince continued. “You get to watch me break your precious Shediem-Slayer.” He turned to Emma, still clutching the bloodied whip, but with a gentler, almost tender smile. It was a stark contrast to his violent words. “I’ll snap every bit of defiance in her pretty little face until she’s mine. If that pathetic dog Levaroth can stay her wrath enough to touch her, then I will be able to as well.” He chuckled.“With a little persuasion.”
Emma struggled against her bonds, muffled sounds of anger coming from behind the duct tape.
“Shhh, little flower,” the prince crooned. His hand lifted for her cheek and the moment his skin met hers, he hissed. When he jerked his hand away, her eyes flared with emerald light.
Blaze would have smiled at the fire lingering in her gaze if the magic encasing him would allow him any movement. Even while being tortured she was still a viper. It gave him hope that she wouldn’t break, no matter what Amon did to her. His eyes met hers and he hoped they conveyed what he was thinking.
To fight.
To never give up.
As confirmation, she gave a slight nod that warmed his chest.
Amon tsked at their silent exchange, and without warning raised the whip and snapped it across her abdomen. A small cry escaped her lips. Her eyes shone with tears that she quickly blinked away.
The sound seemed to excite the prince because he groaned, low and throaty, making Blaze want to burst from the magic holding him and snap the prince’s neck.
“The pain will stop when you are ready to behave. Are you ready to behave, flower?”
Her muffled curse was clear enough for both of them to make out and the prince sighed, feigning weariness. However, the creep’s eyes glittered, proving he enjoyed her fight. Sick bastard.
“Master?” a raspy voice called from the entrance of the tent.
“What is it?” Amon barked.
“News, my lord.”
A growl echoed in the prince’s throat before he stalked past Blaze and through the opening of the tent.
Blaze’s eyes returned to Emma. He wished he could speak, to reassure her. Of what, he didn’t know. He just wanted to comfort her.
Faintly he heard,“—all of them except the witch. The brother surrendered without a fight though—”
Amon cut the Shediem off. “Execute them all. And if the Spellcaster comes back, kill her too.”
Apparently he wasn’t even trying to hide that Taryn had slipped through the cracks.And if Blaze knew anything about the young Spellcaster, it was that she would try to save her brother. Which meant they could still be rescued.
Emma’s eyes narrowed, and he was certain she’d heard him too.A sigh left her, and she hung her head. In relief or exhaustion, he wasn’t sure.
“I’ll see you soon, flower,” Amon called to her, though she simply lifted her head to glare at him.
The prince’s chuckle and barked orders to have Blaze bound too were the last things he heard before unconsciousness swept, unexpected and strong, forcing him into the darkness.
37
Adrianna
A
slow jazz tune emanated from outside her room. The twins argued in the room next to hers and she sat up with a slow smile. Warm, golden summer sunshine
streamed through her window. Outside, someone mowed their lawn.
Everything was perfect. Peaceful.
The smell of bacon and maple syrup wafted into her room before her mother peered inside with a smile. “Morning, doll face! Breakfast is ready.”
“Be right there,” she murmured through a yawn.
Getting to her feet, Adrianna saw a girl appear and lean against the wall opposite her. Her hair was short, and a wild shade of teal green. With her sharp chin and high cheekbones, she resembled what Adrianna assumed could only be a fairy.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Taryn,” the girl answered casually, looking for all the world as though it wasn’t strange she’d just appeared in Adrianna’s bedroom.
“How
did you get in here?” she asked bitingly.
“Magic, obviously.” Taryn pushed off from the wall and sighed. “While I hate to interrupt such a happy dream, I don’t really have a choice. Emma is in trouble: you need to rescue her.”
Adrianna blinked, feeling the earlier joy beginning to trickle away. Sadness crept in in its place. This wasn’t real. Her mother was dead, her family far away.
The room’s brightness dulled, the colors fading to grey.
“How do you know Emma?” she asked, her nose wrinkling. “How do you know me? I’ve never seen you before.”
Taryn shrugged. “You’re a pretty hot topic amongst the Spellcasters: the most powerful Spellcaster to ever live was abducted by the General Tlahaz and forced to serve King Nakosh. How is the king, by the way? Be sure to give him my utter hatred.” She smiled sardonically.“We were supposed to be busting your girl Emma out of Amon’s little slice of Earth, but everyone was caught. Except me, of course.”
Adrianna stared at the strange fairy-like girl. Slight in build, but tall. And the closer she got, the more Adrianna could feel her power.
Her brows raised.“Emma is with Amon?”
Taryn nodded.“I gotta save my brother before he’s executed, and I don’t have time to spring Emma too. I need you to do it.”
Adrianna scoffed.“I’ve already intervened once; now I’m on lockdown. How the hell am I supposed to save her?”
Taryn rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard the rumors of Tlahaz’s obsession with you. Having a general wrapped around your finger has its uses, am I right?” She gestured outside the bedroom door, to Adrianna’s family.
Her eyes narrowed at the girl.“You seem to know an awful lot.”
“I run my own coven, so yeah, I’m in the loop you could say. Anyway, they’re in China. Wuhan. Go save them.”Taryn paused. “And how is Levaroth? Say hi for me.” Her grin turned wicked.
Then she was gone.
Adrianna jolted, her dream vanishing, and the heavy arm that held her against the warm, solid body at her back tightened reflexively. Pushing off Tlahaz’s arm, she sat up. With a groan, he followed suit.
His lips pressed to her exposed shoulder.“What is it?” His voice was rough with sleep.
She fought back a shiver before tossing her blanket and getting to her feet.“Go back to sleep.”
Tlahaz’s golden eyes darkened.“I know that tone. What are you up to, Witch?”
Adrianna huffed as she threw on what clothing she could find discarded on the floor.“I can either force you to go back to sleep, or you can do it of your own free will.”
He chuckled.“I could force you to tell me what’s wrong, or you could do it of your own free will.”
Her ire sparked.“When have you ever given me free will?”
His expression hardened but he didn’t respond.
“ Exactly.”
In an instant, the shirtless, chiseled perfection that was Tlahaz stood before her, cupping her face gently. His eyes darted between hers.“What is it?”
She swallowed hard.“I can’t tell you.”
He growled.“Why?”
In a whisper she said,“Because you’ll try to stop me.”
“You aren’t leaving, Adrianna.”
Licking her lips, she stepped back, trying to breathe in something other than his tantalizing scent.“I’ll be back. I swear.”
With a rough sigh, he said,“Let me come with you.”
She shook her head,“I can’t.”
“You can’t fix Levaroth. It’s too late for that.”
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “I know that.”
He ground his teeth audibly, and she cringed. “What if I swore not to intervene as long as it didn’t directly violate an order from my king?”
Her eyes narrowed while she considered. Freeing Emma wasn’t a violation of any orders the king had given either of them. If she had to guess, she’d imagine Nakosh had no idea that Emma was Amon’s captive.
She took a deep breath.“Fine.”
His grin was bright, making her stupid heart flutter, which she of course ignored.
Holding out her hand, she sighed.“Let’s go.”
38
Emma
Sleep was almost impossible in her position. Everything hurt, and her healing was slowed by the magic that kept her bonds in place. They weakened her. But eventually
exhaustion won out after several hours of watching an unconscious Blaze bound on a cross that was bigger than hers, his feet suspended off the ground.
Amon had taken his harem outside, thankfully, though the moans and grunts were loud enough to make her teeth grind. But it gave her the chance to work the fabric stuffed into her mouth. She shoved the dampened scrap against the tape covering her mouth over and over, hoping to create enough of a gap so she could speak to Blaze when he woke.
Her eyelids had begun to droop but after what felt like a few minutes, they snapped open when the prince threw open the tent flaps and stepped in. His chest glistened with sweat and his eyes shone from the high of sexual energy he’d fed on.
The light around the tent told her the sun had risen at some point.
“Good morning, flower.”The prince eyed her hungrily.“I must say, I love to see you bound and at my mercy. Are you ready to behave today?”
“Never,” she spat behind the tape, though it was still muffled.
Amon chuckled lightly. Servants came in with a large metal tub that they set in front of her. They poured in steaming buckets of water. For a bath, she realized with confusion. Then her stomach clenched. Amon wouldn’t try to bathe her, would he?
Her answer came when he picked up a sponge left on his table, dipped it into the slowly filling tub, and stepped toward her. She thrashed against the rope holding her, not caring that it cut into her wrists, making them bleed. Her entire body was crusted with dried blood and she itched fiercely, but she preferred that to the prince touching her in any way.
He shot her a warning look before he lightly dabbed at her left arm. The warm sponge burned her torn, aching flesh. She bit back the whimper that tried to escape, clamping her jaw tightly shut.
Amon’s eyes flicked up to her face and pinned her gaze beneath his lethal stare. His tongue darted out to wet his lips while he continued his gentle washing of her body, turning away from her only to rinse the sponge and start again. Each time forcing her to stare into his eerie eyes.
“We can make a deal, flower,” he said in a voice like velvet. “Would you like that?”
She tried to shake her head, to snarl, but her body was too tired.
He smiled. “I will spare your friends if you give yourself to me.” His free hand lifted, fingertips hovering over her cheek for a moment until she felt the light touch of his skin.
Her power didn’t shoot to the surface like it normally did—it didn’t surprise her since she was completely worn out. The magic was draining her, and she currently healed at the same rate a human did.
Amon smiled triumphantly, and a choked noise came from her throat when he leaned in, pressing his lips to her cheek. A jolt of anger shot through her, but her power was vacant.
“One by one I’m plucking your petals, little flower,” he whispered, his breath hot on her cheek.“You’re mine.”
A cough sounded beside them, jerking her attention to Blaze lifting his head. Amon’s lips brushed against her neck and a chill ran up her spine.
“Ah, you’re awake. Good.”
“Are you okay, Emma?” Blaze asked, his voice hoarse and scratchy.
She nodded as best she could.
“I was just washing the Shediem-Slayer.”Amon’s grin turned wicked.“You’re welcome to watch. But first”—he turned back to Emma—“let’s get these clothes off.”
“Don’t you dare!” Blaze snarled.
The prince laughed heartily. “While you were napping, my little flower and I made a deal. I will spare the lives of your comrades and in exchange, Emma will r
emain here with me, forever.”
Emma wanted to shake her head, to communicate with Blaze that she’d never surrender to the prince, but she couldn’t sentence the others to death for her sake. When her eyes met his, she tried to inject the words she’d been too afraid to say out loud.
I love you.
Blaze’s eyes softened. “I love you, Emma. Don’t ever stop fighting.”
Her heart swelled in her chest at the words he spoke.
He loved her.
She loved him.
Amon rolled his eyes with a drawn-out groan. “Give me a break—Giborim don’t fall in love. They stake their claim and impregnate the woman gullible enough to bed them.”
“Don’t you ever claim to know my kind, Demon!” Blaze seethed.
Emma’s breath caught. The pure rage burning in Blaze’s steely blue gaze was remarkable.
Fixing his sensual gaze on her, Amon brushed her bare collarbone.“Let’s get you clean, flower.”
With a snap of his fingers a small woman with glazed eyes breezed inside the tent.
“Yes, Master?” she asked, her voice scratchy, either from disuse or because she was under his spell and hadn’t had a drink in far too long. Her plain white dress was formfitting but stained and beginning to fray.
“Fetch a Spellcaster to gag this one,” he gestured to Blaze, and she bowed before disappearing through the slit.
“You can silence me all you want, Shediem—just know your death is inevitable,” Blaze said, resting his head against the wood. His eyes closed, for which Emma was grateful because Amon went back to sponging her off.
A few minutes later a Spellcaster entered and cast a spell that wrapped a thick band of light around Blaze’s head, covering his mouth. He didn’t fight it, but his glare was as sharp as any blade.
Despair began to trickle in when Amon pushed away the torn scrap of material that covered her more sensitive areas to clean her. She closed her eyes, unable to see if Blaze watched. Trapped in the darkness of her mind, she fought to dredge up her power, but it remained silent.
The Throne of Broken Bones (Weapon of Fire and Ash Book 3) Page 31
