“Tell me,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Your mother was a vampire. That’s why you’re immortal, Smenkhare. You’re not the only female Ikari warrior ever born, much as you’d like to believe that. Your mother was a rogue vampire whom your father bled to death after you were born. But you are the only vampire who has ever lived within the walls of an Ikari compound. You should be proud.”
“You’re lying! I walk in sunlight. I don’t drink blood. I’ve never drank…” She began to say blood, but couldn’t finish the sentence. She had. Last night and today.
He sighed, as if growing bored with this discussion. “You are half Ikari. You lucked out with that whole sun thing. As far as blood goes, you’ve drunk it all your life. In small doses, of course. With the gravy the servers poured over your potatoes, with the wine your father allowed you to drink with dinner. You’re a blood drinker, Smenkhare, learn to like it.”
“Liar!”
“Ever ask yourself why the Warlord never wanted to take you into battle, why he never allowed your training to go beyond the SIMs and the practice field, when you’re one of the most skilled fighters he has? He was afraid of your blood lust. He was afraid you’d get caught up in the fight and go all 'vampy' on him. It’s why he did his best to see that you remained a virgin, too. Blood lust, Smenkhare, blood lust.”
“But Alaric. I didn’t…”
“He gave you his blood freely. Ask yourself what would have happened had he refused—”
“Lying bastard!” she screamed at him.
Despite her decision that physical force against Azriel was useless, she reared back with her free hand and made a fist. Before she could bring it home, Azriel pulled her to him and held her against her chest.
“Hush now,” he said, “he’s coming. It won’t do to have him seeing you squirming around like a rabid beast.”
She tried to push against his chest, tried to free herself of him, but he was too strong. “Who’s coming?” she demanded.
“My quarry. Now, hush yourself.”
It could have been madness, but she didn’t think so. Unwanted, unbidden, laughter erupted up and out of her. She tried to swallow it down, but couldn’t. “You fool,” she said, “the Warlord isn’t here. The Warlord would never bring me to a coven house.”
“Silly little girl. Who said anything about the Warlord? I’ve come for Alaric.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
A moment later, Alaric erupted from the entrance, Damon, Nuno, and Jules on his heels. When he saw her dangling there, caught in Azriel’s arms, he would have ran forward had not Nuno and Damon stayed him.
“Let me go!” Alaric demanded.
“It’s a trap, you stupid bastard,” Nuno said.
“I won’t lose her again.”
“And you don’t have to,” Azriel promised. “Align yourself with me and I’ll free her. No one has to be hurt.”
Alaric stared into her eyes, but he spoke to Azriel. “How do I know you’ll let her go?”
“Because I say so. Everyone seems to have forgotten the fact that I’m an angel. I can’t lie. It’s a damned annoying trait to have when you’re trying to take over the universe, but there you go. It’s how I’m made.”
Alaric closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. “We played right into your hands, didn’t we? It was never Ikarius. It’s not even me you want. You want the Alliance.”
“Decide, Coven Lord, or I’ll kill you where you stand. Before your blood dries on the ground, I’ll take Smenkhare as I did—”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
At the sound of this new voice, Azriel jerked as if struck. With his arm wrapped firmly about her, he whirled.
She felt his muscles stiffen as he struggled to contain his fury. Raven, Myrddin, Aliceanna, and a female she’d never seen before were standing mere feet from them. How they had gotten past the imps Al-Kenna didn’t know, but somehow they had. At present, she saw no sign of the creatures.
“Let her go, Azriel,” Raven said, “you’re outnumbered.”
“You meddling nuisance of an angel! Go away, Raven.”
“Let her go.”
Azriel’s wings flapped and Al-Kenna felt his arm tighten around her. From behind them, she heard Alaric call out to her, heard the tromp of feet on the ground.
Then, everything seemed to happen at once.
Suddenly, she was falling.
Azriel cartwheeled across the yard.
Arms closed around her and she felt the warmth of Alaric envelope her as Azriel got to his feet and leered.
“You fool!” Azriel cursed. “Outnumbered! Outnumbered!” Azriel raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
A second passed. Two seconds. When ten seconds had passed, Azriel thrust his hand into the air a second time.
“Don’t bother,” Raven said, lifting his own arm, one finger raised in the air.
Al-Kenna let out a yelp of surprise as the trees surrounding the coven house came alive, rustling and fluttering as if of their own accord. A moment later, however, she realized what she was seeing wasn’t the trees coming to life, but movement in the trees. One face appeared in the thick wood, then another, then more. Then, there was a legion of men. Soon, the trees around the property were all shifting as men made their way through the forest to the yard. They were all Ikari. Every one of them was an Ikari warrior, armed for battle and holding weapons that dripped with yellow sludge. Imp blood.
When she saw the bright red hair and large frame of a particular warrior, Al-Kenna felt anger rear inside of her. Unbidden, Azriel’s words came back to her.
“The Warlord,” she whispered.
Even as she said this, the sound of the Warlord’s voice, raised in fury, boomed through the night. “Al-Kenna! Al-Kenna! Show yourself, girl.”
Before she could decide what to do, he spotted her and started in her direction.
“I don’t want to see him, Alaric,” she said.
Alaric tightened his hold around her. “It’s okay, I’ve got you now. I won’t let your father take you away from me. Ever.”
She didn’t correct Alaric’s assumption that her angst was due to fear of being dragged back to the compound against her will. She had no intention of leaving Alaric’s side, no matter if the Warlord willed it or not. Her problem at present was that she didn’t know how to respond to the Warlord, a man who had lied to her from the day she was born.
There were so many things that had changed in her life, so many things she had to figure out.
“Al-Kenna,” the Warlord said, throwing his arms around her. “I thought I’d lost you.”
She allowed this contact, deciding for the moment silence was her best bet. Just now, with a crazed angel bent on destruction, a confrontation between her and her father wasn’t in anyone’s best interest.
“I’m fine, Warlord,” she said against his shoulder.
“Your imps are dead,” Raven was saying. Al-Kenna looked up in time to see him shrug. “See, you’re not the only one who can plan a successful ambush.”
For a moment, Al-Kenna thought Azriel would explode. Clenching his fists at his sides, though, he managed to control himself. “This isn’t over, Raven.”
“You’ve lost Charity, and you never had Alaric. You’re all alone. Your little attempt at an overthrow of the earth has failed.”
Azriel gazed at the horde of Ikari males making their way into the yard. His eyes were fixed to the Warlord, however. Almost immediately, a smile split his lips. “Has it?” he asked.
“Yes,” Raven said. “It has.”
“I have more imps,” he said. It was Azriel’s turn to shrug. His eyes met Al-Kenna’s. She almost screamed out in surprise when she heard his voice in her head. The Warlord thinks he killed her, but she’s not dead, Smenkhare, Azriel said. Only I know where your mother is.
A crack of lightning lit the night sky and the ground rumbled. Azriel’s wings spread and he ascended into the air. “Is it over, Ra
ven? Or are we just beginning?”
The end... of Book Two
About the Author
Adrienne has always loved the arts. As a young girl she used to entertain her friends by writing stories for them then acting them out. She had a particularly good time creating unpleasant scenarios for certain characters, then naming those characters after annoying schoolmates.
As she matured, her forays into writing matured as well. Currently, she spends all of her free time creating new characters and writing stories. She views books as the ultimate form of escape. “Within the pages of a book you can go anywhere and be anything you want to be,” she says of reading. “Anything is possible with a book.”
Nephilim War: Book 2 Page 26
