Sword of Darkness

by Kinley MacGregor

  "And what if you find yourself with my child?" There was an odd note to his voice. One that she couldn't name.

  "I will do what I've always done whenever things didn't go as I planned. I will cope."

  Kerrigan didn't understand this woman and her calm acceptance of misfortune. "Will you not be angry at me?"

  "Nay, Kerrigan. I offered myself to you. Why should I fault you for my actions?"

  His face hardened as he stared up at her in the mirror. "I won't ever care for you, Seren. There's no place for a wife and child in my world."

  Seren sighed heavily at his inability to simply enjoy what they'd done. "I ask you for nothing, Kerrigan. Can you not understand the term ‘gift'?"

  His voice was dark and ragged. "No one gives something unless they want something in return."

  Her green eyes stared at him accusingly. "Fine then. I did want something."

  "I knew it. You were using this to soften me."

  She rolled over to look down at him, face to face. His hard body felt strange beneath hers, and yet she felt no shame. "Nay. After what had happened with Morgen and her spell while you fought, I wanted to know what it would be like to bed with you. You were right. I am a woman full-grown, and for many years I have wondered at what it would feel like to have knowledge of a man's body. Now I know, and that is what you gave me in return."

  His eyes flared to red flames. "You are ever witless, little mouse. And I have given you much more than that."

  As she opened her mouth to ask him what he meant by that, Blaise's voice echoed in the room around them.

  "Lord Kerrigan, come quickly. We're under attack."

  Chapter 8

  Kerrigan flashed his black armor back onto his body. His natural inclination would be to leave Seren to her own devices, but for once he hesitated. Without him, she was completely defenseless.

  He swept her naked body with his gaze and paused at the sight of her bloodied thighs. At the sight of her reddened flesh, disheveled hair, and swollen lips that betrayed their play. His body burned at the memory of her touch.

  She'd given herself to him without reservation.

  Something foreign pierced his heart. Some emotion he didn't even understand. All he knew was that he couldn't leave her here alone.

  Clenching his fist, he covered her with the clothes of a squire—in case she needed to run, she wouldn't have a heavy dress slowing her down, or trailing after her. Without a word, he held his hand out to her. She didn't hesitate at all before she tucked her tiny, finely boned hand into his. The moment she did, he flashed them into the chapel beside Lancelot's tomb.

  "Stay here, little mouse, and don't come out. No matter what you hear."

  To his amazement, she leaned forward to kiss him gently on the cheek. "Be careful." Even more stunning than her actions and words was the sincerity he saw in those enchanting green eyes.

  And you as well…

  The words hung in his throat. All he could do was incline his head toward her before he took his shadow form and went to seek out Blaise.

  He found the mandrake in a bower room in the southern tower. Blaise stood before the open window that showed a sky darkened by gargoyles and dragons. It was Morgen's army, and the sight made him curl his lip in fury. Damn the bitch for her timing.

  "How did they find us?"

  "Don't look at me," Blaise snapped. "I was dozing in my bed until I felt the pull of my kind approaching." He glanced askance at him. "What were you doing?"

  "Nothing that should have caused this."

  Blaise snorted in disbelief.

  Ignoring him, Kerrigan threw up his arms and raised a shell of magic to protect them from the approaching army. So long as it stood, there was no way for Morgen or her people to reach them. The only problem was that the shield depended on him to remain strong. If he napped or grew weak from hunger, the shield would fail.

  And his primary source of food was on the outside of the castle…

  Aye, things were definitely looking up for them.

  Seren listened carefully, but all she could hear was the sound of her own heart beating. Whatever could be happening upstairs?

  It was terribly quiet for a castle that was under attack.

  Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her. She turned her head and jumped back in terror as she saw a beautiful apparition.

  With long dark hair, he appeared to be a man in his early thirties. His features were finely chiseled and perfectly handsome. But what frightened her was the fact that he was completely transparent.

  His dark eyes penetrated her. "Seren? Are you all right?"

  She shivered at his questions. "H-how do you know my name?"

  "I know the name of everyone who comes to my home."

  "Your home?"

  "Joyous Gard."

  A feeling of dread went through her as she glanced to the form of Lancelot on his sarcophagus and then back at the ghost. Aye, they were very similar in features. Too similar in point of fact. "You are Lancelot?"

  He struck his shoulder with his fist before he fell down on one knee before her. "Aye, my lady, and I am here to protect you."

  Three days before this, the idea of the ghost of a famed knight—who up until a short while ago she had assumed was fictitious—would most likely have made her fear a mental distress of some sort had besieged her. But after she had been sucked into the darkness of Camelot and assaulted by demons, gargoyles, and dragons, this was beginning to seem quite normal.

  And that honestly scared her.

  But not as much as the thought of what might be happening above with Kerrigan and Blaise.

  "I am glad to hear it, my lord. No doubt Lord Kerrigan could use another sword, even if it does belong to a ghost."

  "Kerrigan?" Lancelot sneered the name at her. "He is the beast that I am here to protect you from."

  She shook her head. "He is no beast…He is above even now trying to keep me safe."

  "Nay, my lady," Lancelot said earnestly as he stepped closer to her. "I don't think you quite understand the position you are in."

  "Aye, but I do. Morgen is after me to return me to Camelot so that she can use me to get the Round Table and destroy the world."

  He shook his head. "Poor Lady Seren. Do you not understand what you have done this day?"

  Apparently not. "And what have I done?"

  "You took the devil into your bed and you now carry his child."

  Seren felt her jaw go slack at his news. How did he know…But then he was a ghost. Perhaps they knew all that happened in the world of the living.

  Even so, she refused to believe him. "Nay. 'Tis not possible."

  Those dark eyes singed her. "Aye, but it is. I know you have lain with him. I can feel the life force of the baby that is beginning to form even now. And once Kerrigan learns that you carry his child, he will destroy you both."

  Unable to comprehend what he was saying, Seren looked at her stomach and placed her hand to it. Was it true? Could she be with child already?

  Was it even possible for a ghost to know this?

  The thought of her pregnant should scare her and yet it didn't…And that was the most frightening part of all.

  "Kerrigan has no compassion, my lady," Lancelot said. "Did you not notice that in Camelot, there are no children there? None."

  Seren frowned as she thought about that. "I assumed they were elsewhere. The parts of the castle I saw weren't exactly conducive to innocent minds."

  He shook his head slowly. "Nay, my lady. Long ago, Lord Kerrigan was cursed by Morgen. He doesn't eat as we do. He lives off the blood of children. That alone sustains him."

  Seren scoffed at his words. "You're being absurd. I'm not some little girl to be frightened by tales of demons eating children."

  Lancelot moved to stand just beside her so that he could whisper into her ear. "Then ask him what he eats and note that he will not answer you no matter how much you plead to know. Because he knows the answer will drive you away from him before h
e can use you to get what he wants. And once he has what he wants, Seren, then he will kill you and the babe himself. Without remorse or care. Trust me in this."

  The problem was, she didn't trust him at all, and why should she? He was a ghost. He could be devil-sent as quickly as he could be good.

  She turned to face him. "I don't believe you. Kerrigan isn't like that."

  He sighed wearily. "Poor child. Ask him what he feeds on, and when you believe that I am the one telling you the truth, return here and I will help you to escape him."

  He vanished instantly.

  Seren glanced about. "I truly hate it that you people do that," she said in a low tone.

  "Hate that we do what?"

  She let out a startled shriek at the deep sound of Kerrigan's voice coming from behind her. "That!" she snapped. "Have you people not heard of doors? Of knocking before you enter? Is there no privacy to be had?"

  Kerrigan gave her a peeved stare as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Nay, little mouse. True privacy won't exist for several more centuries."

  "Pardon?"

  An amused light glinted in his dark eyes. "Nothing." He inclined his head toward the door. "Come, Seren. You may leave here for a few hours."

  She hesitated at his words and dire tone. "What do you mean?"

  "We are under siege by Morgen's troops. No doubt you will be relegated to this dark place all too soon as we battle them. For now we are in a stalemate. So come above and enjoy the daylight while you're able."

  Seren reached out to touch him, only to have him move away. He glared murderously at her. "I told you, mouse, your gift sways nothing inside me."

  Yet he had brought her here to protect her and now he was offering her comfort for as long as he could.

  So what should she believe? His words or his actions?

  Her mother had always told her that words were made to deceive, but that actions never lied.

  "'Tis a pity then, my lord. What we did together most definitely swayed my affections for you."

  His eyes blazed fire at her. "Do not deceive yourself, Seren. I stabbed you once. I can easily do it again, and next time I won't bring you back from the threshold of death."

  Perhaps, but then, too, she had seen the look on his face when he'd realized what he'd done to her. There had been grief and pain in those dark eyes. Even remorse, and when he'd called for Blaise, the anguish in his tone was too heartfelt to be feigned.

  No matter what he said, he did care for her. At least a little.

  "As you say, my lord."

  He stiffened at her words. "You don't believe me?"

  She should probably lie, and yet it wasn't in her nature to do so. "Nay, I don't believe you."

  He whirled on her then so fast that she could do scarce more than gasp as he pinned her back against the wall. He pulled the dagger from his waist and held it balanced against her throat. "I am not a man for you to take lightly, mouse."

  She should be afraid of him and yet she wasn't. She saw through his actions. If he'd really wanted her dead, she would have died the night before.

  "I don't take you lightly, Kerrigan. I know exactly what you're capable of." She boldly covered his hand with hers and pressed it closer to her throat. "But I am not the kind of woman to live in fear, either. If you are going to kill me, then get it over with, or never threaten to do so again."

  Kerrigan was stunned by her courage. The darker part of him wanted to kill her just because she'd questioned him. Kill her because of the weakness she had exposed inside him.

  But the other…

  He stared at the shining silver blade that was pressed against the pale, tender skin he'd nuzzled only a few minutes before. And as he remembered the way she had felt in his arms, his anger withered.

  "Do it," she said, bravely. "I know you've cut the throats of countless others."

  It was true. He'd done so a thousand times. Always without remorse. Without feeling anything.

  But he felt something now. Anger, desire, and other things he couldn't even identify.

  Kill her and be done with it.

  Still he hesitated.

  Seren braced herself for the worst. She could see the heat in his red eyes. Heat that said he hated her, and yet there was something else there.

  Suddenly the blade pressed closer. So close that she wasn't sure how it didn't break the skin of her throat. She wanted to swallow, but knew that if she so much as breathed, the dagger would wound her.

  Mayhap he would kill her after all.

  So be it. At least it would be over and she would have no more fears.

  Kerrigan growled deep in his throat—the sound of a wild animal as it lunged for the kill.

  His hand tightened on her shoulder an instant before he flung the dagger away and pulled her fiercely into his arms. His lips were scalding as they claimed hers. Closing her eyes, Seren inhaled the musky scent of him while he explored every inch of her mouth with his tongue.

  She melted from the heat of that kiss. From the sensation of his arms encircling her.

  Kerrigan pulled back to look down at her with an accusing stare.

  Relieved that she was still alive, Seren reached up to smooth the frown from his brow. "Then there will be no more threats against me. You have decided."

  His gaze hardened. "You don't control me."

  "Nay. But you made your choice, my lord, and I shall hold you accountable to it."

  He released her so quickly that she barely caught her balance. "Bah. You are—"

  "A fool," she finished for him. "And I am a mouse. But I am not some insignificant matter for you to tread upon without regard. I'm a human being, Lord Kerrigan, and you will treat me as such."

  He curled his lip at her. "You are a peasant and I am a king. That gives me full control over your life."

  "And you chose to be kingly with your compassion. You spared my life this day and you saved it last night."

  Still his denial burned bright in that obsidian gaze. "I hold no compassion nor any regard for life, human or otherwise, and that goes for you as well."

  She ignored his argument. "I don't believe you."

  His eyes flared to red. "Believe it, wench. When I was ten years old, I killed my own mother, and I felt nothing but relief the moment her blood coated my hands. So if you expect me to ever mourn your passing, think again."

  But he had felt something when he'd stabbed her. She'd seen it with her own eyes. Heard it with her own ears.

  And he hadn't let her coldly die.

  "Why did you kill your mother?"

  His face turned to stone. "I no longer recall the reason. It didn't matter to me at the time."

  Seren cocked her head as she realized something about him. "Did you know that you glance down and to the left when you lie?"

  His gaze snapped back to hers. "I don't lie."

  "And yet by your own admissions you are ever a liar."

  His rage was so great that the very air around him snapped with power. Yet he made no move against her. He merely stood there, glaring at her. "Out of my sight, mouse."

  Suddenly, Seren found herself in the great hall upstairs, only a few feet from Blaise. He turned toward her with an arched brow. One that arched even higher when Kerrigan didn't immediately join them.

  "Angered him, did you?" Blaise asked.

  "It would appear so. I seem to have a great knack for it."

  He laughed. "And yet you live. Amazing. You're the only one I know who has ever done so."

  That was far from comforting. "Why is he so angry at everything?"

  Blaise shrugged. "It's a comfortable emotion. He understands anger. The other feelings are more confusing. You can be angry and have no feeling other than the anger. But to feel something more tender…it leaves you vulnerable."

  Blaise was a lot wiser than he appeared. His words reminded her of something her mother might have said.

  "Was he always this way?" she asked.

  "Aye, for the most part. When Morgen f
ound him and first brought him to Camelot, he was terrified. I could sense it. But he never showed it to them. He was as he is now. An animal that had been turned vicious by those who sought to hurt it. So he attacked until none dared to challenge him anymore."

  A chill went down her spine as he described Kerrigan in a manner that reminded her of her mother's words to her that day when they had found the wolf. Was it possible that Blaise might have known of her memory?

  With their unholy powers, she supposed that it was possible, or perhaps it was merely his own perception of Kerrigan.

  "And yet you are friends with him."

  Blaise's violet eyes turned dull at her statement. "Nay. Kerrigan is friends with no one. I am merely his servant."

  "But you hold enough power that you could leave him if you wanted to. Why stay?"

  One corner of his mouth quirked up in bitter amusement. "Perhaps I'm a bit of a masochist."

  She frowned. "I don't understand that word."

  "Someone who likes to feel pain," he explained. "Either self-inflicted or inflicted by others."

  Still, she didn't believe him. "You don't strike me as such a person. You are loyal to him. I've seen it. There is a difference between serving someone because you have to and liking them. You serve Kerrigan by choice."

  For once he didn't deny it. "And you are far wiser than you should be, Lady Seren. Such things are bound to lead you into trouble."

  Perhaps, but he was avoiding her question. "So why do you stay and serve him?"

  Pain flashed across his brow before he hid it. When he spoke, his tone was low and sincere. "Because I know what it's like to be abandoned by everyone around me. I know what it's like to be denied the very things that all children should have. Safety. Love. Regard. Your mother loved you, Seren. You don't know what it's like to grow up watching other children with their parents while knowing that if you reached out to yours all you would get is a vicious slap. A bloodied nose. At least I was lucky enough to have been found by a man who cared for me when I was young. Kerrigan had no one until Morgen took him in."

  And she had seen enough of Morgen to know that she hadn't been overly kind to him, either.

  "Do you know why he killed his mother?" she asked him.