The Jewel

by Avelyn McCrae

  Soft masculine grunts accompanied the wet slap of skin on skin. The scent of blood and sex hung in the area around them. Her only regret as he continued to push himself into her was that she should have had the foresight to remove his shirt so she could feel his naked chest pressing against her swollen, sensitive breasts.

  Before long, his thrusts grew more insistent, more frenzied as he picked up the pace. Gemma squeezed around him until he groaned with need, licking his skin along his jugular.

  “Do it,” he hissed in command.

  She struck with the speed of her kind, sliding her fangs deep into his neck as he continued to pound between her legs. Once, twice, and on the third time, he shoved deep and began to empty inside her, inciting a third powerful climax of her own.

  His heat spread upward from her sex at the same time it glided down her throat, his blood and his essence satisfying every one of her hungers.

  Chapter Fifteen

  He shuddered when she finally, reluctantly, pulled back from his neck and healed him with a gentle glide of her tongue. Equally slowly, he withdrew from her sheath and lowered her to the ground.

  With the brunt of his primal hungers satisfied, clarity began to return, and with it, shame.

  Viktor did not meet her eyes as he drew his trousers up. Somewhat shakily, she pulled her dress on, as well. It seemed their perfect moment was over.

  Viktor was angry with himself. Very angry. For long, blissful moments he had thrown caution to the wind and allowed her magic to get the best of him. No woman had ever made him forget his purpose. No woman, except this one. This one, who made him want to forget all his training and discipline and spend the next hundred years buried deep in her body.

  “Your magic must be truly powerful, indeed,” he said, willing the ice back into his veins.

  “What do you mean?” she asked. If he didn’t know better, he might think that look of confusion etched across her strikingly beautiful features was genuine.

  “I’ve never been hit with an enthralling spell quite so effective.”

  Those beautiful features hardened. “You think I enthralled you?”

  “Of course. There can be no other reason for what just happened.”

  Hurt flashed in her eyes, or more likely, the illusion of hurt as crafted by a skilled and powerful witch. “Maybe it happened because you wanted it to.”

  He snorted. “Or because your master did. Do not take me for a fool, consort,” he sneered. “I know where your loyalties lie.”

  The hurt morphed into anger. Her golden eyes flashed with red, reminding him once again of exactly who, and what, he was dealing with.

  “Yes,” hissed between clenched teeth. “My fealty is to Andrei, just as yours is to Constantin.”

  “Our situations are not quite the same. My sire does not whore me out to further his own agenda.”

  “Doesn’t he?” She smirked. “Thanatos.”

  Between one heartbeat and the next, Viktor had her pinned against the wall again. Unlike last time, he had no intention of slaking his lust with the beautiful sorceress, yet his cock hardened just the same against the feel of her lush body, the scent of his essence now mixed with hers.

  “Jewel.”

  She didn’t fight him, as he had half-expected. No, her lips parted and he felt her nipples turn to diamond tips through the silk of his shirt. Determined not to allow himself to fall for the same trick, he hardened his heart and his loins against her wiles.

  “Tell me the truth. Why did you bring me here?”

  “Join him,” she beseeched breathlessly. “Join us, and you may have me anytime you wish.”

  “I’ve already had you. Once was more than enough.”

  Viktor stepped away suddenly, and her feet dropped gracefully to the floor.

  “You’re making a grave mistake,” she warned.

  “Your counsel comes too late. I already have.”

  Viktor turned to leave. He made it all of three long strides before he felt it.

  Power wrapped around him like a vise, squeezing his body, making it impossible for him to take another step. He struggled against it, but it was futile. Once again, he cursed himself for being stupid enough to turn his back on her.

  Invisible hands lifted him in the air and slowly turned him around until he faced her. The sight was at once beautiful and terrible. The jewel’s golden eyes glowed; her body vibrated with power as she opened her arms, beckoning. The cocoon pulled even tighter around him, and he could feel his energy draining away.

  “No,” he ground out, but not even he could hear it over the thrum of her magic.

  When she finally released him, he fell to the floor. It took everything he had to raise his head and spew vile curses in her direction, curses he had never uttered to another being in his five hundred years.

  The radiance of her eyes dimmed, and she looked at him in horror. “Viktor?” she whispered.

  The sound of clapping drew both of their attentions.

  “Excellent, my dear, excellent,” Andrei said with obvious delight. “Only my jewel could capture the Spirit of Death.”

  Weakened as he was, Viktor could not fight. Hatred, black and ugly, radiated from his very being. The look on his face was one of pure loathing, directed at Andrei because he could no longer stand the sight of the woman who had seduced him.

  “You will not get away with this, Andrei.”

  “Of course I will. You forced yourself upon my consort. An unpardonable transgression, even amongst our debauched society.”

  Viktor seethed at the words. “Forced? She was quite willing, I assure you.”

  “Unlikely. Many have attempted to seduce her with promises of wealth, priceless treasures, a throne of her own, and she has refused each and every one of them.” Andrei sniffed the air delicately, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Everyone, it seems, but you.” Andrei’s gaze flicked to Gemma. For a moment, his features creased in a frown, then smoothed as he waved his hand. “No matter. Join me, and all will be forgiven. I may even let you have her again.”

  “Never.”

  “Pity. I could have used a male of your talents. But, if you’re certain ... Kill him, Gemma.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gemma looked down in horror at the man on the floor, feeling the burn of his disgust and hatred as the memories rushed back. Memories of a time long, long ago, and of a beautiful farm boy who had made love to her beneath the open skies. Memories of a vow made to the monster standing before her in exchange for her betrothed’s life.

  Her gaze lifted to Andrei. Had he known who Viktor was? Had Andrei recognized him? Probably not. The man rarely thought of anyone except himself, and all those years ago, Viktor was nothing but a nameless, faceless means to an end—her.

  And now Andrei wanted her to kill the only man she had ever loved.

  She couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. She had done Andrei’s bidding for far too long, but this ... this she would not do.

  She couldn’t refuse outright, either. Andrei would just kill Viktor himself. Weakened as he was, weakened because she had drained him in a fit of scorned rage, not even Thanatos had a chance of defending himself. Until she figured out a better option, she had to convince Andrei there was a better alternative.

  She schooled her features and spoke in her usual cool, detached voice. “Not yet.”

  “Excuse me?” Andrei narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

  “Think about it,” she said, tilting her head to the side as if thoughtful. “I’ve already taken his strength. Without it, he is no threat. And he undoubtedly holds many secrets of your rivals. Discover those first, then let me kill him.”

  Andrei’s grin reappeared. “Just so. But what of Constantin?”

  “I’ll take care of Constantin,” she said.

  Closing her eyes, she called upon the powers she had stolen from a shapeshifter, and using the energy she had just absorbed, she transformed herself into a perfect replica of Viktor.

  The man on the floor ro
ared in rage and lunged. Gemma withheld her wince when Andrei batted him back easily.

  “You’ll never get away with this!” Viktor growled as Gemma walked away without a backward glance.

  “Of course she will,” Andrei said on a laugh. “Guards! Escort our guest to someplace more conducive to an informative discussion.”

  Gemma paused briefly, her mind working frantically as half a dozen of the armed guards Andrei had brought with him rushed into the room. They looked at Gemma, then at the real Viktor on the floor, clearly confused.

  “Andrei,” she said in her natural voice, “perhaps it would be best if you accompany me back to the gala. We can interrogate him later. Together.”

  Andrei appeared to think about it, then nodded. “Yes, of course. My presence will undoubtedly be missed. Come, Viktor. Let us provide Constantin with a bit of reassurance that all is well, shall we?”

  It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances. And hopefully, it would give her enough time to figure out a way to save Viktor’s life.

  Badly shaken, it took everything she had to keep it together and sustain the illusion of Viktor as they returned to the grand ballroom. To everyone else, it appeared as though Andrei and Viktor had found common ground in their mutual appreciation for rare and ancient weaponry. Andrei smiled and placed his hand on “Viktor’s” shoulder in a show of camaraderie, then resumed his place on his throne. Gemma, as Viktor, slid back into the shadows as she had seen him do earlier.

  Mimicking Viktor’s behavior wasn’t difficult. She had been aware of him from the moment he had entered the grand ballroom with Constantin, her attention drawn to him as if he had shouted her name. Now she knew why. While her conscious mind hadn’t remembered him, her subconscious had.

  Because Viktor was, and always would be, imprinted on her very heart and soul.

  Any worries she had about Constantin or Viktor’s brethren scenting the deception were quickly laid to rest. Had she been thinking more clearly, she would have realized that Constantin would never attempt to garner information in an obvious or blatant manner. An exchanged look here, a slight nod there, was all it took to assure the powerful vampire lord that all was well.

  Thankfully, no one seemed to expect Viktor to engage, either. Gemma turned away more than a few offers of blood and sex, and while the profferers displayed disappointment, no one seemed particularly surprised, either. Clearly, Viktor had the same aversion to being with anyone else as she did. The thought eased some of the heaviness around her heart. Her Viktor still loved her, even if he didn’t remember her.

  She stalked the perimeter in Viktor’s slow, measured pace, always watchful, always vigilant. It gave her plenty of time to think.

  To remember.

  Everything.

  She and Viktor had been so happy. So in love. Had planned to spend the rest of their lives together and have lots of children. She didn’t know how Viktor had come to be a vampire; it was likely she never would. Absorbing his energy had brought her mortal memories back to her, but it was clear Viktor remembered nothing of her. And now he hated her.

  Outwardly, she remained impassive, but inside, her heart wailed at the loss, at everything Andrei had stolen from them. She hated him more than ever.

  Andrei had ruined so many lives. He had to be stopped. Because of her blood vow, she couldn’t do it, but Viktor could.

  The gala would extend throughout the night and well into the next day, possibly even longer. There was no way she was hanging around that long.

  A plan began to form in her mind, and the sooner executed, the better.

  After what she deemed an acceptable amount of time had passed, Gemma made one last round, expressed a desire to retire for the evening, and finally departed the great hall to put her plan into action.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gemma allowed the illusion to fade as she made her way back to her private quarters. She worked quickly, gathering everything she would need. The set of bespelled dirks, gifted to her by a powerful demon lord and oiled with deadly poison. The small vial of restorative she had accepted from the High White Witch of the Northern Territory on their last visit. Then she paced her rooms, waiting impatiently for Andrei to join her. For this to work, they had to visit Viktor together.

  Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long. Andrei must have been watching her and knew exactly when she had left.

  “You fucked him,” Andrei spat the words as he stalked across the room.

  “Yes.”

  “Why him?” he asked, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why now, after half a millennium of abstinence?”

  She lifted her shoulder in a graceful shrug. “It was the only way to get him to lower his guard enough to drain his power. He knew who I was, what I could do. He must have shielded himself against my magic.”

  “That is the only reason?”

  “What other reason could there possibly be?” She kept her face devoid of emotion, her voice even.

  “And ...?”

  “And what?”

  “Did you take pleasure in it?”

  The scent of his arousal reached her nostrils. A quick downward glance confirmed the erection he didn’t even bother to hide. She could read his thoughts as easily as her own. The sick bastard hoped to be the next in her bed now that she had broken her centuries-long streak of abstinence.

  Over my dead body, she thought, then realized that might not be far off.

  “It was no less nor more than I expected, but necessary. May we proceed? I know how enthusiastic your guards can be, and I wish him lucid for the interrogation.”

  Without waiting for an answer, Gemma walked toward the door, hoping Andrei would follow. He did.

  They said no more as they traversed the maze of corridors and stairs, heading down into the bowels of the castle-like lair, down to where Viktor was being held captive in the ridiculous dungeon. Andrei had a flair for the dramatic.

  Andrei’s displeasure was a palpable thing, pulsing in the air around them as they moved. She used that to strengthen her resolve.

  Andrei hated the fact she had allowed Viktor inside of her, and since Andrei couldn’t harm her, he would take his rage out on Viktor. If her plan failed, Andrei would inflict as much pain as possible until Viktor begged for death.

  The tang of Viktor’s blood hit her first, almost causing her to stumble. That, she could not allow, not a single slipup. She knew she was being watched, her every move monitored.

  Did Andrei suspect anything? She certainly hoped not. Then she realized hope had no place in her world. She would only get one chance to make things right. Failure was not an option.

  Gemma slipped into his cell first, smothering her pain and grief when she saw Viktor in chains. Arms strung out and up, legs spread in bolted cuffs, and a spiked collar of pure silver around his throat kept him from defending himself. Deep gashes scored his bare chest and arms, a result of the silver-tipped whips the sadistic guards had used to taunted him.

  “Enough!” she said, her voice soft but infused with unmistakable power.

  One of the guards snarled at her, but a slight push of her will had him on his knees, begging for mercy, while the others cautiously stepped back.

  Viktor didn’t even look at Andrei. His eyes bored into hers, silently damning her into the worst pits of Hell. Didn’t he know that she was already damned? That she had been living in Hell for more than five hundred years?

  She pushed down the violent emotions, calling upon the discipline of centuries of rigid self-control to rein herself in.

  “Enjoying our hospitality, Thanatos?” She smirked, walking close enough to run her nails down his bloody chest.

  He recoiled from her touch, pressing his back against the reinforced wall behind him, sending another blade of pain into her heart.

  She ignored his bared teeth and growled protests, pressing her body against his and licking at the blood dripping down from the collar. With the skill of a magician, she pro
duced the pair of small bespelled blades into her palms and slipped them into his pants, hiding the action with her body. Then she lifted her head and pressed her lips to his, pushing the restorative into his mouth and giving him back the strength she had stolen, whispering a release spell in her native language. “Za javnost.”

  The cuffs around Viktor’s wrists and ankles snapped open as Gemma stepped back. Andrei shouted for his guards, but it was too late. Before he even got the words out, Viktor lunged, grabbing Gemma by the hair and yanking her back against his front. He held a blade to her neck and glared at Andrei.

  “Move and she dies.”

  Andrei froze, not because he cared for her life—he would sacrifice her in an instant if it meant saving his own skin—but he knew, as well as she, that if she died, he died. Which was the only way to stop him.

  “Do it,” she whispered.

  Viktor growled, but for whatever reason, he didn’t. Without releasing his hold on Gemma, he skillfully sent one of the blades she had given him soaring into Andrei’s chest.

  The poison-coated blade penetrated his heart, and Andrei fell to his knees.

  The guards rushed forward to subdue him, but Viktor wasn’t called the Spirit of Death for nothing. He shoved Gemma away with a brutal thrust, then accepted the rush of his attackers.

  Gemma didn’t even try to stop her forward progress, her body hitting the far wall of the cell hard enough to break several bones. Weakened by Andrei’s glide toward death, she slumped toward the floor, but kept her eyes on Viktor.

  Even now, he was so beautiful, his body moving in a deadly masculine dance.

  In a matter of mere seconds, each of Andrei’s elite guards had been efficiently dispatched.

  Viktor’s quick glance at Andrei confirmed he was no longer a threat. Only then did he turn his laser-like gaze back to Gemma. His eyes, glowing with the surplus of energy she had gifted him, held puzzlement as he slowly stalked toward her.

  She understood his confusion. With no visible injuries and the amount of power she wielded, she should not be wilting like a pathetic mortal in the corner.