What was she to do about this man? What was she to do about her starvation? Ignoring her hunger pains ceased being an option.
Five days was the longest she’d ever gone without a proper meal. At the time, she’d been trapped in a desolate realm devoid of life. By day four, she’d felt as if she were dying. By day five, she’d wanted to die.
No reason to panic. This was only day two, and she already had a banquet lined up. All will be well.
With daggers in hand, she rushed to the door. Roc appeared directly in front of her, blocking the exit. Too late to slow. She slammed into him. Only the hard clasp of his hand on her nape prevented her from ricocheting. He used his free hand to disarm her and lock her body against his.
The fingers on her nape inclined her face to the light.
She kept her lids low. Looking at him, even for a moment, made her mouth water and her stomach cramp. The hungrier she became, the more his skin glowed. The louder she heard his soul call. Soon, she’d see and hear nothing else. Remembering she couldn’t consume him, that he possessed some kind of mystical block—impossible. She would attack.
Even now, she yearned to attack. Standing in place required great effort. “If you’re wanting another go at me, you’ll have to wait.” She began to pant as though she jogged uphill. “The candy store is currently closed.”
“What I want is the key to the Realm of the Forgotten.” He wrapped his fingers around the little dagger necklace and yanked the cord from her neck. As he traced his thumb over the metal, he frowned. “This leads to Harpina.”
He could tell by touch alone? “Why didn’t you touch the key while we were making out?” Because he’d wanted to get her into bed, and he’d seized any excuse.
“Give me the other key, Taliyah.”
“I can’t.” If he fought her on this, she’d...what? In this state, what could she do?
He examined her before forcibly turning her around and sweeping her hair over her shoulder, baring her back to him. “The hourglass tattoo.”
How did he even know that? “Remove it, and I’ll—”
“What?” He traced a fingertip along the image, unerringly gentle. Shivers rained through her. “What can you do to me?”
She didn’t know! “Are we done here?” she demanded with enough vim and vigor to terrify anyone else.
With an unnecessary abundance of force, he turned her to face him. He actually recoiled.
“Stop manhandling me, and get out of my way,” she said, meeting his gaze. She gasped. Had she ever spied so much malice? Because of a tattoo key?
Cool air bit her bare skin, rousing apprehension. Before this, she’d never experienced a chill in his presence. Why did he no longer give off heat?
“Black lines branch from your eyes, Taliyah. Why?”
The question lashed like a whip, and her cramping stomach dropped. He suspected she was a phantom.
Drawing on centuries of battle calm, she delivered a flat statement. “I’m part snakeshifter, Roc. Why else?” If he knew little about the snakes, he might believe her very truthful claim.
“Snakeshifters do not develop black lines around their eyes. Try again.”
Okay, so he knew about snakes, but he might not know about Erebus. “You’re right. But how many snakeshifter–harpy hybrids do you know?” Such a combination was a rarity, snakes a difficult species to infiltrate. Their suspicion of others provided a tough hurdle for any female to jump.
He ran his tongue over his teeth, the barest tendril of heat escaping him, fueling her confidence. “You are the first,” he grudgingly admitted.
Confidence restored. I’ve got this! “Since we’ve got that cleared up, be my darling and get out of my way. If you hadn’t noticed, I’m naked. I seek clean clothes.”
His nostrils flared. “You won’t traipse the palace in this state.”
Oh, yeah. She totally had this. His possessiveness had just reared its big, beautiful head. Going for flirty, she batted her lashes. “Why don’t you do your duty as my spouse and provide for me? In case you’re wondering, I’m size perfect.” Like every woman who’d ever lived.
“Trust me, I noticed.” He maintained his hold, studying her face with renewed intent. “We captured a phantom today.”
Confidence plummeted yet again. Clearly, she hadn’t convinced him of anything. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll be on the lookout. No big, bad phantom will overtake me.”
“You told me you’ve never fought a phantom. How do you know you can defeat one?”
Reveal nothing. “I can defeat anyone. Why else? One day I’ll even defeat you. So what, exactly, are you implying here, Roc?” Better to confront his suspicions head-on.
The light in his pores brightened, threatening to unravel her composure. Do not break his stare and lick your lips.
“Erebus sent me a message,” he said. He went quiet again.
Taliyah didn’t let herself panic. She knew better. Panic led to mistakes. As casually as she could manage, she arched a brow and braced a fist on a cocked hip. “And?”
“And he says you are a phantom.”
Shock and fury punched the air from her lungs. Her own father ratted on her? That...that... There was no insult great enough. The urge to kill vibrated in her bones. At least she didn’t have to wonder why. Erebus would rather make Roc miserable than protect his own flesh and blood.
“You believe your greatest foe?” She tsked. “Hey, would you like to buy an invisible best friend? I’m offering two for the price of one.”
His eyelids slitted. “You are my foe. The one who challenges me for the position of Commander.”
“Because you selected me, not the other way around!”
“You demanded I select you.” Lacking mercy, he returned to the interrogation. “Why did you refuse to eat dinner?”
She rolled her eyes. What else could she do? “Some snakes prefer to devour their mates whole.”
His eyelids slitted further. “The day you tracked me in the throne room—”
“You mean yesterday?” She tried for flippant. She might have sounded strained. Yesterday felt a million years away.
“—did you use illusion to hide yourself...or did you disembody?”
Careful. “Tell trade secrets to the male planning my murder? Try again.”
He remained undeterred. “Are you a phantom, Taliyah? Say yes or no and nothing else.”
Hardly. “If I say no, you won’t believe me. If I say yes, you’ll attack. Why don’t we climb in bed and cuddle this out?” He’d fall asleep with her in his arms. She’d push her spirit out of her body and feed. He’d never know she’d left him, and he’d believe her story. Simple, easy. Won’t whimper.
“Yes. Or. No.”
Okay, so, the first stream of panic invaded. What was her best move here? Think! Should she flat-out deny it?
No. Misleading an enemy was fun. Outright lying to save her skin was nothing but cowardice. Should she just admit the truth? What would he do to her? His options were limited. Lock her up or kill her.
If anyone had the means to cage a phantom, it was this uncompromising Astra.
“Silence isn’t an option,” he said, pushing the statement through clenched teeth. “Yes or no. Say one or the other. Now.”
“Screw you. I’m fetching clothes. I’ve been ogled enough for one day.” She braced for battle. “To stop me, you’ll have to fight me.”
“Very well.” He removed his hand from her nape. He didn’t strike—he vanished.
Did she relax her guard? Not even a little. Wherever he’d gone, whatever he was doing, he planned to return fast. She knew it.
Taliyah lunged, sweeping up the dagger he’d discarded.
Roc reappeared with a shirt he tossed in her direction.
“Dress.” If he noticed the weapon, he made no comment.
> Reflexes in better shape than the rest of her, she caught the garment without fumbling. “I don’t understand.” Had the danger passed?
As she worked the material over her head, Roc stated, “You are without excuses now. Answer my question.”
No, the danger hadn’t passed. This man was determined, intelligent and ruthless, and he’d already put some pretty solid pieces together.
“What I am,” she said, “is your gravita.”
“You are a thirty-day irritation.”
Ouch. Whatever. His opinion hardly mattered. Except, this one kind of...hurt. Only minutes before, he’d held her as if he couldn’t get enough of her. And she’d held him right back, because part of her respected him. Maybe even liked him. He was amazingly strong, his battle skill unsurpassed. His intensity stunned. When he indulged his sense of humor, he charmed.
She couldn’t help what she was, and she wouldn’t apologize for it. Actually, she was tired of hiding her origins from everyone. Why should she?
Her mother had commanded her to do so because of the horrors Erebus had wrought in the past, and what he might do in the future. Because she’d worried harpies would be unable to separate father from daughter. Taliyah’s peers weren’t so simpleminded. Surely! Only the Astra would fault her.
“Are you a phantom?” Roc demanded.
“What does it matter?” she snapped.
He bowed up. “Phantoms are worthy only of death.”
A layer of calm cracked, an astonishing amount of pain spilling out. “Apparently the same is true of your bride.”
His lips thinned, and he dropped his chin. Though he remained in place, she sensed movement everywhere around her. Were his warriors appearing? Spinning to the side, she avoided capture... No! His men hadn’t surrounded her. Roc flashed in four poles. Two in front, two behind. Made of trinite and six feet high, those poles beamed pure energy, creating a cage without bars.
Hostility vibrated in her wings. Taliyah didn’t do trapped. She raced forward, planning to burst through the force field and deal with the damage. She bounced back, her knees buckling.
Unwilling to accept defeat, she fought her way up with sheer grit, shook it off and tried again. And again. Again and again and again. She. Would. Not. Stop.
Roc scrubbed a hand down his face, as if he couldn’t believe what he had witnessed. “You are. You are a phantom pretending to be a snake, sent by Erebus to ruin me.”
“You ruin yourself.” Wham. Wham. Still fighting...
“How are you able to act so independent?” The more he spoke, the harsher the inflection in his voice. “You cannot be my gravita. You tricked me somehow.” He scanned her entire form, and his eyes widened. “The ring.”
Full-blown panic took over then, and she shrank back. Not the ring. Anything but the ring.
This might be a good time to detonate her bomb. Would he simmer down if he learned of her kinship with Chaos? Or would he rage about Erebus’s potential influence over her?
Split-second decision, no thought. She kept her mouth shut. Too much time remained in the game. For now, she stayed the course. “If you want the ring, you’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hand.”
He vanished, reappearing directly in front of her, the force field having no effect on him. Already he clasped her wrist. Her stomach bottomed out.
Their eyes met. “Roc,” she said, a humiliating tremor in her voice, “don’t you dare—”
With a single jerk, he ripped the metal from her finger, screws and all. Frost spread over his skin.
* * *
Taliyah’s body bowed, a scream of agony leaving the mouth he’d kissed half an hour before. Roc stumbled from her. Blood poured from her finger, spilling down the pale, pale skin he’d caressed. She dropped the dagger and pressed her hands to her ears.
The sight seared his brain, and he nearly glanced anywhere else. He forced himself to stare at her. Forced his heart to harden. This was nothing more than a trick, courtesy of Erebus.
But her screams tolled on. “Make them stop, make them stop!”
“Enough,” he shouted, hating her. Hating himself more. “I’ll not fall for more of your deceits.” This must be a trick. Just like everything else. She’d hidden her origins so well.
His bride was a phantom. A soulsucker. Undoubtedly Erebus’s greatest creation. What other phantom could lead Roc to consider changing course?
Part of him clung to disbelief, fighting the mounting evidence. How was she so lovely to him, even now? Why were her eyes not milky white? How did she converse so easily, warming with his touch?
Why had Erebus alerted him to her heritage? Without a warning, Roc might have continued in ignorance, allowing Taliyah to spy. Or worse.
Realization: When she’d left the palace, she hadn’t visited her friend. She’d returned to her maker.
Rage stampeded him, trampling every other emotion.
“Make them stop,” she cried. Her knees gave out, and she tumbled to the floor.
Only doing her master’s bidding.
His heart hardened further. What was Roc to do with his treacherous bride?
20
The screams...so many screams. As if all phantoms from all realms stood in this very room. A phenomenon Taliyah had never understood. From everything she’d read, phantoms remained quiet when they gathered, unless and until Erebus issued a direct order otherwise. They didn’t even scream when starved.
She needed to... She should... Can’t think. Need to think! But oh, the noise! How could she ponder anything?
The screams grew in volume as the minutes passed, pain after searing pain lancing her. Was she holding the dagger? She couldn’t remember. Desperate, she made stabbing motions with both hands, just in case. Please...
The screams escalated. “Stop, stop, stop.”
Strong fingers wrapped around her wrists. Something cold and wet slapped one of her palms, and she jerked, vaguely aware Roc was cleaning the blood from her wound.
He helps me? No, surely not. He knew what she was. His hatred knew no bounds. The disgust he lobbed at her...
With her defenses down, she couldn’t deny the sting of his rejection. An icy tear slid down her cheek.
Roc maneuvered her arms in different directions, her legs here and there. Through the screams, she thought she heard him say, “You will wear this because I’m not sure what you’re faking and what you’re not. I won’t risk someone taking advantage of you in this condition...or you taking advantage of me.”
She thought he’d just refastened the chastity belt in place, then dragged a pair of shorts up her legs. She fought, because she couldn’t not fight.
So. Many. Screams. A cold, wet trickle leaked from her ears and nose, and a whimper escaped. What if the screams never stopped?
Was she floating? A hint of warmth penetrated her awareness. Roc carried her? He’d subdued her so easily?
She moaned. “Make it stop.” Screaming, screaming. SCREAMING.
The air turned frigid and damp all of a sudden, familiar scents clinging to her nostrils. He’d taken her to the dungeon?
A crazed laugh escaped. Did Roc think to let her rot until the sacrifice?
Well, good luck. If the screams continued, she might off herself before then.
Falling slowly... Lying flat. Roc shoved something onto her finger. The ring! Blessed quiet descended, until she heard only a mild ring.
Taliyah sagged against the floor. Panting, she wiped at her eyes with a shaky hand. Chains rattled as she moved, confusing her. She blinked. What was that heavy weight on her wrists? On her chest?
What was... Why... When the synapses fired off in her brain, comprehension dawned. Roc had shackled her wrists and pinned her wings.
She gasped, dread and fury unfurling. Jolting upright, she examined her surroundings. She occupied a cell next to the ha
rpies, who watched her through the bars that separated them, exuding confusion and concern.
Roc stood inside the cell with Taliyah, his expression frighteningly blank. Other Astra towered in the space beyond, peering at her with...horror? Even the one who usually paced and mumbled nonsense focused on her with laser intensity.
Taliyah remained on the floor and jutted her chin. “I distinctly remember checking no on my RSVP to the dungeon hoedown.”
“You don’t have to worry,” Roc told his warriors. Rage simmered in every word. “The stardust means nothing. It isn’t real. A trick like everything else.”
The newest rejection wounded in ways she didn’t expect. Unwanted by two fathers. Now discarded by the man predisposed to desire her. Would any man find value in her?
Every warrior but the black-eyed hottie with light brown skin nodded in agreement. Because desiring a phantom was so far beyond their realm of comprehension?
She forced a smile. “Are you sure the stardust isn’t real? Are you really sure an itty-bitty phantom coerced the beastly Astra to do something—someone—he despised? Why, only yesterday you claimed such a feat is impossible.”
Okay, she needed to zip it until she figured out an endgame. Antagonizing a monster might feel good in the moment, but she’d be better off ensuring every barb served a purpose. The goal was freedom, not the assuaging of pride.
His fiery gaze scanned her features. “In these chains, you’ll be unable to disembody or use the key to the Realm of the Forgotten.”
Truth? She tried to flash...to mist... She failed. Don’t panic. Her options had dwindled, yes, but a few endured. Maybe. Hopefully. Could she convince him some phantoms were good?
Torchlight cast flickering shadows over his brutal features, blending with the soul-light. Hunger reignited as she imagined suckling at his throat.
Roc shuddered, his expression brutal.
No, she couldn’t convince him some phantoms were good. She doubted anyone had the ability to do it.
The Warlord Page 17
