Realm Book One - To Tell of Darkness

by K. A. M'Lady

“Tsk, tsk, Kieran. Is that anyway to treat an old lover? See how he talks to me, Blaen?” She was pouting at him like some blonde goddess bimbo. Literally batting her lashes and everything. It was enough to make me retch.

  “That time is long since passed, Jirvel. You no longer hold that power over me.” His voice had gone cold as the darkness at midnight in Alaska’s true winter.

  “And what has made you sink so low, Blaen?” Kieran asked, interest and disgust entwined in his question. He obviously held no regard for the white Vamp, or her choice of companion. “You are the Fionn-Seitheach, the Fair Wolf. The Alpha King. Or has Jirvel stripped that title from you?” he asked Tinsel Hair.

  Blaen just glared at Kieran and said nothing, although there was now a tightness to his back that had not been there a moment before. His jaw clenched and unclenched with words he did not speak.

  “I had much power over you, Kieran, once,” Jirvel interrupted. “And still do. You just don’t know it yet. But do not worry. And worry not for Blaen. He, unlike you, knows his place. Besides, as I said, there is plenty of time to bleed.” She laughed.

  Apparently it was a joke only she got, for no one else was laughing.

  With a nod, all eight of the men accompanying her swarmed us en masse. Kieran flung out his hand and one Vamp was literally slashed from neck to groin; blood blossoming in a crimson flux down his shirt. I would have been impressed if there had been more time.

  Three men rushed me. I had my blades in my hands and was swinging before I even realized it. Survival Tactics 101--Kill first, wipe the blood off the blades later.

  I slashed one across the arm as he swung at me, gashing his biceps to the bone. Another one kicked me in the chest and knocked me flat on my ass. The force of the blow knocked the wind right out of me, my chest constricting with the pain. His buddy literally growled at me, and moved to pounce. At the last second, I brought my knees up and kicked him square in the mouth, sending him backwards into a roll.

  Two days in a row of getting my ass kicked was a new record, even for me. I think I needed to stay home more.

  From the corner of my eye, I could see Kieran taking on the other five goons. He had gashes on his chest, his lip was bloodied and someone had his arms pulled behind his back while another was pounding on his face. I swore I saw claws attached to that someone’s hand.

  The Lone Ranger was still coming at me, though. Before I could get to my feet, he kicked me in the side, right in the kidney. I was starting to get pissed. He went to kick me again and I grabbed his leg, held on to his ankle and twisted, knocking him off his feet. We were now on even ground.

  I rolled on top of him and started pounding his head into the carpet. It may have felt soft to bare feet, but as I was bashing his head into it, I was hoping for cement beneath as I reached for his eyes. He grabbed my wrists as I pressed my thumbs into his sockets. The harder he squeezed my wrist the harder I pushed down, until he was finally screaming. Without warning, he released my wrists and punched me square in the mouth.

  It was the last thing I saw coming before lights danced through my vision and my world went black.

  I hate when the bad guys knock me out cold.

  I woke up--the Prophets only know how much later--on the floor of a cell, iron bars all around me. My shirt felt cold and wet as it clung to my torso from the heavy dead weight thrown over top of me. I tried to sit up but my head was spinning, the world fading in and out of view.

  The hammering in my brain was too much as I tried to move, so I lay back down and closed my eyes. Maybe death would take me and my head would stop its thunder. Hey, a girl could hope. Couldn’t she?

  When next I opened my eyes, the weight had moved and was now lying next to me. And as I looked at it, my lids blinking as they tried to focus, it began to take the shape of a person. I had to blink a couple more times as the world went to six shades of gray before I could figure out that this thing, lying there next to me, covered in blood, was even real. But as the fog cleared from my brain, it all came back to me in a gut slamming, jaw-cracking rush.

  “Prophet and the second coming...Kieran?” My voice cracked as I crawled over to him, too weak and dizzy to get up and do either of us any good. “Kieran, can you hear me?”

  My voice sounded too loud for even my ears as I laid my palm on his chest. His shirt hung in tatters, and there were deep gashes all over his chest. His face was beaten and as far as I could tell, he didn’t appear to be breathing.

  Do Vampires breathe? I’d never been around one long enough to know. But somehow I needed to kickstart this one’s heart. Or something.

  If we were going to get out of this cell and live to fight another day--together--he needed to be upright.

  Okay, Rihker. Think. He’s a Vamp. What does he need to be mobile again? I lay there and looked at the mass of bloodied wounds that the white bitch had given him. I wanted to rip her face off.

  Blood. He needs blood, I thought. But do you really want to give him yours? The conversation in my head was too one-sided. It didn’t matter if I wanted to do it. I needed to do it. He needed blood, and at the moment, I needed him to get us the hell out of this fucking cell.

  Okay. So I’d need to donate a little blood. Big deal. I could do that. I held my arms out in front of me searching for a wound that I could reopen and make bleed. Something he could get his lips on and sink his teeth into.

  Scratch that from your mind, Rihker. Just find a wound. My freaking arms were of course, wound-free. Oh, I had plenty of abrasions and bruises, but no deep cuts. So I felt my belly, my shoulders--nothing. I checked my neck, even. And no, not my idea of a good place for a cut, but he is a Vamp. For once in my damned life, I wasn’t the one bleeding heavily. Shit, shit, shit!

  I looked around the cell. I needed something to cut myself with. A piece of metal or wood, something. Then I saw a shank of rock off to the side of the cell by one of the bars. It was thin and angled. And, I prayed, sharp enough to draw blood.

  I grabbed the rock and crawled back to Kieran. Taking a deep breath, I dragged it across the side of my neck. “This better fucking work,” I swore as the sting of the open air hit the gouge I’d just ripped across my throat as I leaned over him.

  I could feel the first beads of blood pool along my flesh, and Kieran opened his eyes. They were completely black. And nobody was home.

  As the blood began to stream in slow rivulets down my neck, he grabbed me and pulled me to him, lapping at the blood that had already seeped around the wound, the rich metallic scent of fresh blood filling the air.

  And then his teeth pierced my flesh.

  “Fuck!” I yelled as he clutched me to him. I could feel every draw of blood he took from me as his teeth sank into my neck and his hands wound tightly around me. He pulled me hard against him, and I felt as though I were being smashed in a car crusher.

  My body began to tingle with the loss of my blood; a sort of weightlessness filling my limbs. I was growing dizzy when Kieran finally returned to himself. His hand on my breast was the first sign of his return. The pain dissipating was the second.

  “Kieran, stop,” I whispered. I was growing weak, while his strength was returning. I felt like he could draw every last drop from me, and I probably wouldn’t care. This needed to end. Now. Before he killed me.

  “Kieran, please,” I begged, my voice now barely discernable.

  He closed the wound on my neck, but did not release me. He lay there, holding me, his hand on my breast, and I felt his heartbeat return. I closed my eyes and darkness consumed me once again.

  I was in a dream. Resting. Peaceful. Someone was whispering my name, and the sound was so soothing I never wanted it to stop. I was on the ocean and the waves were gently rocking me back and forth, a cool mist of sea spray dusting the edge of the boat I was resting in, the glow of the moon filling me with light. I was warm. Comforted. It was beautiful. Serene. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so much peace.

  I opened my eyes and found myself in Kieran’
s lap. He was holding me gently. Rocking me. Calling my name. “So good of you to return to me,” he said as he brushed my hair from my face.

  I looked up into his sincere, dark eyes and wondered how long I’d been lying there like that.

  “You have been out for most of the night,” he said.

  My brow furrowed and I stared at him, confused. Worried that he had read my thoughts.

  “Ah, but I have, my fair giver of life,” he said with a smile his voice a soft whisper of seduction in dark places.

  “What?” I croaked. He so did not just say what I think he said.

  “You have freely given of yourself to me. An offering, if you will. And in doing so, I am connected to you; mind and body. I will always know where you are and when you need me.” The look in his eyes was almost triumphant. Or, at least, pleased.

  He was sitting with his back against one of the coarse, grimy walls, his long legs stretched out before him. I was cradled in the bough of his arms, warm, comfortable and furious.

  I tried to sit up. Pissed in three seconds does not even sum up what went through my head. And I knew he heard it, felt it and knew it as fact. I really didn’t give a shit. Tied to a fucking Vamp! Fuck!

  I moved, and big black spots swarmed before my eyes. My head started pounding and my stomach clenched. Kieran held me by the shoulders and pulled me back into his lap. It was a very intimate embrace, a lover’s embrace.

  He held me in his arms like he would kiss me; pulled me close to his chest, to his now-beating heart. My own heart began to race as my brain erupted with a million thoughts, questions and worries. Instant overload.

  “Sshh,” he whispered. “Do not worry, Rihker. I will not harm you.” He wound his arms tighter around me. “You have given me what so many in a thousand years have not. And I will not betray you. I will not betray your honor.”

  He leaned into me and brushed his lips against mine. They were surprisingly warm and oh so gentle as he softly said, “For your faith, I give you what I have not freely given in over a thousand years. To you, Rihker Tennai, I give my fealty,” he vowed. And then he kissed me--a kiss to quench the dying.

  His tongue swept past my lips, and I was lost. His touch was painfully gentle as he wound his fingers through my hair and deepened the kiss. It became a duel of tongues and lips grazing each other, each of us breathing for the other. I was certain my own heart would stop.

  He continued to kiss me, stirring my soul with his fervor. When I thought the kiss would end, he held me to him, kissed me deeper, until I tasted the rich, metallic tang of blood. I stiffened in his arms as the warmth filled my mouth; a fount spilling from his mouth to mine until I was forced to swallow it. I tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t release me.

  His arms held me steadfast, my whole body clenching in panic, my eyes flying open to find his; endlessly dark and drowning, on mine. I tried again to push him from me, shoving at his chest. But it was no use. I was a captive to his embrace.

  And still he kissed me, his blood pooling into my mouth, warm and bittersweet. The rush of the warm liquid warming my belly was like whiskey on an empty stomach. It sent charges of electricity to every nerve ending, where it coiled in my veins.

  It shot flames of passion and fury rushing through me like a live wire. I was shocked, revolted. Awed. And thirsted for more. I felt like I could crawl inside of him. And yet I wanted to escape his touch.

  He kissed me madly, passionately, his hands warm and firm where he held me. He devoured my every breath, filled me with the overwhelming scent and taste of him. The blood becoming sweet ambrosia, the blood of life. His and mine. Filling me until I could take no more. Until I thought I would drown in a sea of blood and desire, rage and lust. Then, and only then, did he release me.

  The crimson flame in the window of one soul

  Merged

  From The Fall of Jericho, Henri Volohonsky

  Translated from the Russian by Richard Pevear

  & Larissa Volokhonsky

  Chapter Eight

  “What the fuck have you done to me?” I was finally able to scream the words at him once my body stopped shaking. I felt like a million explosions were erupting beneath my skin and every neuron and synapse was on electrical overload.

  Pissed didn’t even begin to describe what I was feeling. I was seething. How dare he do this to me? Whatever it exactly was. I didn’t even really begin to know or understand what this blood exchange meant.

  “I have merely given you back some of the strength you have shared with me.” The cool aloofness in his voice was so complacent, I wanted to punch him. “Be careful, lass, your anger does not become you,” he told me as he pulled me to my feet.

  As far as I could tell, the view standing up was definitely no better than it had been from the floor. But I was finally able to get my bearings, since my head was now clear and no longer throbbing, or spinning out of control.

  I turned and glared at him. “You don’t know the first thing about my anger, pal. And stop reading my mind, or you’re really not going to like the transmissions,” I told him as I walked to the bars. I pressed my face to them as I tried to see out and around the dungeon area we were being held in, but it was filled with too many shadows.

  Kieran’s presence behind me made me turn back to him. “As you wish, Rihker, but know this,” he said with an arch of his brow. “You are now tied to me. You possess the same ability to read my thoughts as I do yours. It was you who chose this path. Not me.”

  “I chose this path? How the hell do you figure that?” This was one Vamp that was really beginning to push my buttons. Blame me for him making me drink his blood. Yeah, right!

  “Make no mistakes, Rihker, you chose to save my life. So you only have yourself to blame. Without your blood, I probably would have died on the floor of this cell. And because you chose to save me, I thought it would be only right to do the same.”

  He was now standing directly in front of me. Hovering. Filling the small space with the enormity of his presence. “I merely gave you back your strength in an expeditious manner so that we can rid ourselves of these surrounds, and find my people.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” I glared at him suspiciously. Call me crazy, but I highly doubted Kieran ever did anything without an ulterior motive. “So Mr. I Have All The Answers, how the hell are we going to get out of here now that we’re both up to par in the strength department?” I pulled on the door of the cell behind me, knowing it was locked up tight, but still needing to do it just to be certain...or to keep from choking him.

  I was certain the damned dungeon had probably been constructed at the beginning of time and no one probably had a freaking key. It seemed the kind of place you would throw people and easily forget about them.

  “I thought you would blast it open,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I could tell by the cool sincerity in his eyes that he truly thought this was a possibility. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. In fact, once I started laughing, I couldn’t seem to stop.

  Pretty soon I was bent over, clutching my knees and holding my side as my good hard laugh started to ache, and tears formed in my eyes. “You’re totally serious, aren’t you?” I finally squeezed out between gasps.

  “I’m glad I could be so amusing. Forgive me if I find no humor in this matter.” The sneer and the downward cast of his eyes were pretty good hints that he was getting annoyed with me.

  Clearing my throat as I stood up and wiped the water that was leaking from my eyes, I said, “It’s not like I can just stare at the door and make it go poof, ya know.”

  “And why not? You seemed to have no problem sending Mercy across a room in your fit of anger.” He was now glaring at me like I had done something wrong, and I could tell by the way that he blanked his mind that he did not want me to know what he was thinking.

  “For your information, I was not having a fit. And if you’d keep Goblin-mutt on a leash, she wouldn’t have pissed me off.”

  “While we’re d
own here debating the extent of your antics, Rihker, my people bleed.” His voice had gone deep and shallow. Cold, even. And I could almost see myself reflected in the darkness of his empty black eyes. Pretty pathetic, when the monsters make you feel bad for them.

  “Fine. But you’re far from out of the darkness on this binding thing,” I said as I turned toward the cell door. This conversation was so not over. Right now we needed out of here, so I was willing to table it for a later fight.

  Somehow I needed to blast the damned door open. Small feat, that. So, with a disgusted sigh, I turned towards the cell door. I rolled my shoulders and twisted my neck, getting a good pop out of it as I shook away some of my annoyance. I concentrated on gathering all of my anger into power. Focusing, I tried to call the moonlight to my hand.

  And nothing happened.

  I stood there like an idiot, begging the Darkness, the Moon gods to come to me. I called whatever dark creature would heed my request to send the stupid ball of power to me so I could just get the hell out of that cell. I even prayed. And nothing freaking happened.

  No tingles went through my fingertips. No currents shot up my arm. I stood there and waited for the supernova of light to flux from my fingers, all to no avail.

  Kieran said nothing while I racked my brain for chants, pacing in a small circle. I threw my arms out towards the cell door with everything I could think of. Finally, with a huff of despair, I turned towards where he was leaned against the opposite wall, frustrated as hell.

  Like a blur, he grabbed me by the shoulders, flung me against the bars of the cell and buried his fangs in my neck. He didn’t even lessen the pain of his attack. He just tore into me like I was a piece of fresh meat and he was the starving monster.

  The jolt of the attack caught me so off-guard I felt my whole body surge with anger. And that’s when I felt it, the light coursing through me, surging in my veins like a lit explosive. I had the power. Now, I just had to focus it.

  Kieran had stopped drinking from me and had closed the wound at some point--I wasn’t even sure when. But he still had me in his arms, pressed against the cell doors. His body lined tightly against mine, and he was very happy to be there.