“It’s not a game,” she said. “It’s who I am. I can’t stop it.”
“You can.” He leaned forward, closer and closer until his face was a fraction of an inch from hers, no longer trying to touch her, but pressing the fullness of his threat into her. “You will pay for your deception, Sophie. You will be mine, and we both know it.”
And with that, he snatched the stone from her hands, tearing it out of her grasp. Her fingers dissolved as his hand brushed through where her palm had been, but she felt the heat of his touch. His eyebrows went up in shock, and she knew that he’d felt the heat of her body as well. He hadn’t touched flesh, but he’d sensed her presence.
Dear God. Why was this happening?
Shock ripped across his face, and lust flared in his eyes, a gleaming triumph that he had breached her defenses for that split second.
“Did you touch her?” One of the demons shouted the question, and as a unit, they all moved closer, tightening the circle. She could feel their desperation and lust thickening, and knew they were moments from a full-on attack.
Rikker’s gaze slithered to the side, rapidly assessing the growing threat of the demons around him, closing in like bloodthirsty scavengers in a feeding frenzy. He met her gaze. “You bitch,” he said softly, but loud enough for all the demons to hear him. “You lied to our leader. You never were corporeal with him, were you?”
“What?” Had she been wrong? Had he not sensed her flesh? Then she saw the knowing look in his eyes, and realized that he definitely had been fully aware of what had happened between them.
“I ask again,” he said, again loudly enough for all to hear, “did you, or did you not, deceive our leader to save your friend?”
She stared at him, confused by his apparent effort to convince the other demons that she hadn’t ever gone corporeal. Was he on her side? Hope leapt through her, and then she saw the muscle ticking in his cheek, and she realized the extreme effort he was expending not to attack her right then and follow up on the sliver of opportunity she’d given him.
With a sinking feeling, she realized that his efforts to deter the other demons hadn’t been to protect her. It was because he’d decided he wasn’t going to share her. He was going to claim her for himself, and he didn’t want to have to kill ten demons to do it. There was a challenge in his voice, and she knew that he was giving her a choice. Give him a chance to breach her defenses, and he’d protect her from the others. If not, he’d tell everyone around them what had just happened, and then there would be no stopping the assault until they got what they wanted.
They would attack right now. All of them. And they wouldn’t stop. Ever. If it took a thousand years, they wouldn’t stop for those thousand years.
Her mouth opened, and Rikker’s eyebrows went up. He reached for her chin, daring her to give him a chance.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced herself not to retreat. Her chin dissolved beneath his touch, but they both knew that she’d at least given him the opportunity. He nodded his approval, and she wanted to cry. “Of course I wasn’t corporeal,” she said aloud, to the ring of vulturous demons surrounding them. “I tricked him.”
There were murmurings from the demons, and she knew she was in trouble. If Lucien believed she’d tricked him, he would punish her severely. If he didn’t, he would continue his seduction. If he kept her as his concubine, everyone would believe that she was accessible, and she would never be safe. Either way, Rikker was going to haunt her every minute she was in the graveyard with him from now on because he knew. He would be relentless in his attempts to break down her barriers. He wouldn’t stop until he figured how to overcome her one defense mechanism, so he could claim her as only a man could do.
Her oasis in the land of hell was over now, and the only question was which demons were going to destroy her, and how long it would take.
Chapter 7
As his motorcycle skidded to a stop, Vlad knew that he’d come to the right place.
He was equally certain he might die because of it.
The two warriors stood ready, their deadly weapons angled toward Vlad with a precision that told him exactly how skilled they were. The taller one was older, and Vlad recognized him from the battle he’d interfered in several years back. Gabe Watson. He was wearing blue jeans that were splattered with blood, and his white tee shirt was equally adorned. He had a gaping wound in his shoulder that was already beginning to heal, and his hip and right thigh had been similarly assaulted.
The shorter one was younger, maybe early twenties at most. Curiosity was evident on his young face. He was also wearing jeans, and the only marks he sported were a few bruises and a small hole in his shoulder, as if a narrow sword had been cleanly plunged through it and removed. His hair was blond and messy, but beneath the youthful features rumbled a weighty darkness more fitting for an ancient warrior with a thousand years of suffering behind him.
His muscles were relaxed and ready, and his sword was angled toward Vlad’s throat, but there was a lack of aggression that suggested he was less interested in killing Vlad than finding out who he was. The youth was a rebel, a warrior who had his own agenda, he was sure. Vlad liked him instantly.
But he knew who was in charge. Vlad’s gaze flicked back to the older warrior. “Gabe, right?”
Gabe’s face went impassive, giving away nothing. “Do I know you?”
“I came by to apologize.” Shit. That sounded like the lie it was. He was a crappy liar, especially when he didn’t want to do it. But his ring finger was burning, “Yeah, well, that’s a lie. I need to talk to Dante.”
Gabe didn’t move. “I remember now. You buried us under a thousand boulders after fighting alongside us for hours to get us to trust you.”
“I didn’t fight with you to manipulate you. I fought with you because I thought you were the good guys. When I realized you weren’t, I changed sides.”
Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “We are the good guys.”
“Yeah.” The younger warrior looked offended. “The Order of the Blade is legendary. They protect innocents at all costs.”
“Yeah, I know all about that,” Vlad snapped. “I know that you’re willing to sacrifice one to save many. I think it’s a crappy life philosophy myself. I always thought that heroes were supposed to save all the innocents, not just the important ones.”
“We save everyone we can,” Gabe snapped.
“Yeah, I know, I know. Heroes and all that.” He didn’t have time to argue semantics. Instead, Vlad looked past him at the stone mansion stretching up high toward the blue sky. “I need to talk to your boss.”
“He’s dead.”
Vlad looked sharply at Gabe, and he saw the regret in the warrior’s hardened gaze. The rawness of Gabe’s emotion hit deep, raking across the shield Vlad kept sealed tightly inside him. For a second, he was catapulted back to that moment when he’d lost Sophie. That feeling of impotence and horror when he saw the flames ignite over Sophie’s kingdom after he’d dragged himself out of the demon pit. How desperately he’d raced across the rocky terrain, screaming her name, praying that her parents weren’t doing what his had just done. He’d never pushed his body so hard, past pain he’d never thought he could endure, and still, he’d arrived just in time to see his best friend disappearing into the smoking abyss. Dead. Because he’d failed. An immense wave of guilt rocked him, but he immediately shoved it ruthlessly away. He had no time to wallow in the guilt of failures long past. By some unfathomable miracle, Sophie had survived both the fall, and all these years in the demon realm. That was all that mattered. He had a chance to make at least one thing right, and he wasn’t going to fail.
He lifted his chin, meeting Gabe’s eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that. He was a great warrior,” he said honestly. No lie there. He’d been impressed as hell with Dante’s prowess. He still had a suspicion that Dante had allowed Vlad to bury him and save the rogue, though he’d never been able to figure out why he’d done it.
Gabe incl
ined his head, apparently accepting the truth of Vlad’s offering. “That he was. What did you want to talk to him about?”
“Demons.”
The younger warrior moved up beside Gabe, his blue eyes fixated on Vlad. “Why do you want to know about demons?”
Vlad focused his gaze on the younger warrior, giving him the recognition the kid so clearly wanted. He’d been young once, fighting for that same respect. “Someone I know was taken by them. She needs my help.”
Both Calydons simply stared at him for so long that Vlad wondered whether all that black light shit had fried their brains. Impatiently, he scowled at them. “Where do the demons live? Where’s the entrance to their realm? I need to get in there.”
Gabe narrowed his eyes. “There are many places where the veil between the worlds is thin, but it’s protected. There’s no way to cross the border. That’s why they’re always trying to find a way across. No living person can cross into their realm unless they are brought across by a demon. Even if you were able to get across, which you can’t, you wouldn’t be able to bring her back to the earth realm. You’d be stuck there with her.”
Vlad shrugged, unconcerned about logistics. He’d find a way. “I got that covered. I just need to know where the entrance is. Do you know?”
Sudden interest gleamed in Gabe’s eyes. “How exactly do you have that covered?”
Vlad studied the Calydon, debating on how much to tell him. He generally operated on the premise that no one needed to know anything about him, but he needed Gabe’s help, and he sensed a gleam of interest in Gabe’s question, the kind of interest that said he might have something Gabe wanted. “I can animate living matter. I can move it anywhere I want.”
“And you think you can use that to cross the border?”
“Yeah, I can figure it out, but I need to go now. Sophie needs me.”
Gabe glanced at Drew, and he saw them confer silently. After a moment, Gabe turned back to him. “Can you animate a body? If a soul had left a body, could you bring the body out of the demon realm into the earth realm, so it could reconnect with its soul?”
Vlad raised his brows. “No one fucks with death.”
Gabe didn’t look away. “You could, couldn’t you?” he challenged. “Dante’s body is in the demon realm, and his spirit is in the earth realm. If we reunite them, he will live. We need him. Can you do that?”
Vlad gritted his jaw. He knew the cost of challenging death. He knew it all too well. “Where there was once death, there always has to be death.” He didn’t add the rest.
Gabe nodded. “Drew’s a pain in the ass. We’ll sacrifice him.”
“Hey!” Drew’s face darkened, but Gabe just clapped him in the side of the head. “Chill, kid, we’ll put a demon in his place.”
Hope began to hum through Vlad as he listened to the exchange. “You know where to go? You know how to find the demons?”
Gabe grinned at him, the first smile he’d ever seen on a Calydon’s face. “Yeah, I got an idea. But we’ll be breaking a lot of rules if we go.”
A slow smile spread over Vlad’s face. “Now, you’re talking. When can we leave?”
“Now.”
Drew looked back and forth between them. “Now? What about the meeting?”
Gabe was already sheathing his weapons. “Fuck it. We’re going to get Dante.”
“We are?” Drew’s face lit up. “That’s awesome!”
Hesitation flickered across Gabe’s face, and Vlad suddenly realized where Gabe’s wounds had come from. The kid was a loose cannon, a liability. He didn’t need one of those, not right now. “Sorry kid. I got space for only one.”
He swung his leg over his bike, and Gabe leapt on behind him without hesitation.
Before he could start the bike, Drew stepped in front of them, blocking their path. “I want to come. He’s my dad.”
Gabe leaned past Vlad. “What do you think Quinn’s going to do when he realizes I’ve gone to cross over into the demon realm to help the bastard who buried us find a woman, and to bring back Dante’s body? What do you think Ry’s going to do?”
Drew met his gaze. “They’ll stop you.”
“So, you stop them.” Gabe held up his hand. “Not by force. They’re on your team, regardless of whether you respect their choices. The reason you aren’t on the Order of the Blade yet is because you rely on force too heavily. You have to learn loyalty and restraint. Stop them from following me, but don’t shed a drop of blood. You do that, and I’ll recommend you to become an Order member. If you so much as scratch any of them, I’ll have you blackballed.”
Vlad saw the frustration warring on the youth’s face, the need to be on the battle lines, and the burning desire to be called into duty as an Order member. Finally, he gave a quick, succinct nod. “I’m in.”
“Good man.” Gabe slugged the kid in the shoulder, then wrapped his arms around Vlad’s waist. “Head south.”
As Vlad gunned the engine, he heard Gabe shout over the roar. “We aren’t going over that wall again, are we?”
Vlad grinned. “Shit, yeah,” he said. “Hold tight. I can lift us. We need to raise the bike ourselves.” Then he hit the ignition and launched them straight at the twelve-foot stone wall.
He waited until the last second to raise them up, and he grinned at Gabe’s bellowed curse as he cut it just a little too close.
As he crested the top of the wall, however, his amusement faded, replaced by a driving sense of purpose. “I’m coming, Sophie,” he said under his breath. “Just hang on until I get there. I swear I won’t fail you again.”
But as his tires hit the ground on the other side, there was a sharp stab of pain from the ring. He glanced down and saw a drop of blood slither over his finger. Had it come out of the ring? If so…there was only one explanation.
It was Sophie’s blood.
Swearing, he gunned the engine. There was no time to waste.
“Have a glass of wine,” Lucien said, his voice rolling through Sophie like a silken seduction. He held up a sparkling crystal goblet, encrusted with a dozen glittering jewels.
Sophie’s heart was pounding as she stood near the door, still wearing her jeans and boots from the hunt. Her ring finger was burning violently, hurting so much. She rubbed it, trying to take away the sting, but it didn’t help. “No thank you.”
“See these emeralds?” He turned the glass, letting the light from the dozens of candles in the room sparkle through it. “Aren’t they riveting?” He was wearing a pair of soft leather pants that clung to his body like a second skin, and nothing else. His body was a sculpture of perfection, his abs carved from steel and his biceps taut. His wings had receded to tattoos across his muscular back, his horns were no longer visible, and his jaw was clean-shaven. He even smelled good. He was pure sex and seduction, complete charm that he’d turned on just for her. He’d submerged everything menacing about himself, showcasing only the raw sensuality of a man who wanted nothing more than to deliver the utmost pleasure to his woman until she was satisfied.
She could feel her body responding to what he offered her, the woman deep inside her awakening for the first time in her life. She’d never thought about sex, let alone craved it. But with Lucien focusing his entire attention on her, she could feel something inside her shifting and coming to life…but at the same time, it felt wrong, so desperately wrong, to be looking at him as a man.
She didn’t want him to look at her like she was a woman.
She didn’t want him to be the one to touch her.
She didn’t want any of this to be with him.
But for the first time in her life, a part of her did want to be touched, to be kissed, to be connected with a man, which was unsettling given that she was alone in a room with him.
He smiled, a devastatingly beautiful smile that made her belly jump in response. “My dear, Sophie,” he said, striding across the plush silvery carpet toward her. “These are the finest jewels in the kingdom. I know you, more than anyon
e, will appreciate them. You do not need to drink the wine. Just enjoy the jewels.”
She stiffened as he neared, but he didn’t try to touch her. He stopped a yard away and extended the goblet toward her. Her attention was instinctively drawn toward the jewels decorating the crystal. The only time she was ever able to touch jewels was on the hunt, and then it was only for a brief moment. Her soul began to cry with longing, and she felt herself reaching for the glass, need burning through her.
Lucien didn’t move, forcing her to take two steps toward him to reach the wineglass. When her fingers closed around the glass, he didn’t release it. “Touch them,” he said, his voice slicing through her like a dark temptation.
She knew his strategy then. He was using the jewels to force her to stay near him, to force voluntary proximity, and gradually break down the barriers. For a moment, hope leapt through her. He wasn’t going to start with force. He was so confident in his skill as a lothario that he was going that route first. Relief rushed through her. No violence? No torment of Maria? She had time.
With a deep breath of relief, she managed a smile. If she could convince him it might work, then she could buy time. He smiled back at her, and held up the wineglass. “Touch them,” he whispered, his voice almost a compulsion as it rippled through her.
She didn’t bother to fight it. She wanted to touch the stones, and doing so wouldn’t hurt her. So, she extended her finger and brushed the pad of it over a glittering emerald. Her body clenched with excitement the moment she felt the vibration of its energy wash over her. The energy was cool and pure, almost cleansing as it rushed through her, stripping away the fear and poison that had been building inside her. She grinned, unable to hide her delight as she touched a ruby. “So beautiful.”
“These are ancient stones,” Lucien said, his voice so soft it was barely an echo in the back of her mind as she lifted her other hand and clasped the bowl of the goblet between her hands. She was barely aware of his fingers clasping the stem inches from her hands as she traced each stone, listening to its story and breathing in its energy. Her muscles seemed to vibrate with strength, and her heart steadied into a strong beat.
Hunt the Darkness (Order of the Blade Book 11) Page 6
