UnholyCravings
Page 11
Master.
Donar blinked. His deahman hadn’t spoken since he had been with Tara and Soren in the alley. What do you mean? he mentally asked the voice.
Master.
Then a memory flashed through his mind, clear as day. He was trapped in a large cage that was suspended over a pit. The room was dark and it smelled like burning flesh. Smoke rose up from the pit and surrounded him, making it difficult to breathe. He hadn’t known when he had last eaten, or had a drink of water.
A figure entered the room, his face cloaked in shadow. He pulled a lever on the side of the wall, and the cage began to move. Donar grabbed the bars as his prison swung out and then down to the side of the pit, next to the man. As Donar got closer, the man’s face began to materialize.
“Hold out your hands.”
The compulsion to obey was overwhelming. Donar did as he was told. “Yes, master.” He stuck his arms through the bars of the cage.
The man pulled out a bright red stone and placed it in his hands. “Time to take your medicine.”
Fire burned Donar’s skin and pain reached out into every inch of his body. Something inside him screamed as his mind blanked to everything but the extreme agony of the stone.
Then it was finished. The man pulled the stone away from his hands and his face came clearly into focus.
“Nergal,” Donar said from the backseat. “Your name is Nergal.”
The man glanced at him through the rearview mirror. His eyes shone bright red, but he said nothing.
Donar was right, he could feel it. This was no man, he was one of the highest ranking deahmans of the underworld, second only to the lord himself.
Urian. The name raced to the forefront of his mind so fast that Donar’s head hurt. Urian was a teammate, a friend. He was in trouble.
“You were with Urian in the park earlier, weren’t you?” Soren asked.
The driver stepped on the gas and the city flew past the windows of the cab.
“Slow down or you’ll get us all killed!” Tara grabbed the seat in front of her to steady herself as Nergal swerved to avoid hitting a parked car. Tires screeched and the engine screamed. The driver’s hood fell away from his face to reveal pale, rough skin and ebony hair cut in a military style. A long scar ran from the man’s jaw up to his temple.
“I don’t know about the park, but he was definitely at the hotel with that woman.” Donar’s memories tumbled back in a heady rush. Why hadn’t Donar recognized the driver earlier?
Master.
The answer was simple. He wore a hood, which hid most of his features. Nergal was also a very strong deahman. He probably used his power to keep them from looking at him too closely.
“Hey, this isn’t the way to the harbor.” Tara straightened and looked out the window. “Where are we going?”
The driver took a hard right, throwing them to the left of the cab. Donar’s breath whooshed out of him as Tara, then Soren fell on top of him. Tara’s ass landed right in his lap and Donar groaned as desire flared up deep in his groin. His inner darkness purred with appreciation as he remembered her bending over in the alley. She had such a delectable ass. He would love to…
“Hey!” Soren jumped off the pile and banged on the Plexiglas window separating them from the driver. “Turn the cab around.”
The driver ignored them.
Tara climbed off Donar and reached over him for the door. Donar groaned as her breasts brushed against his leg. He tried to clear his head, but his inner deahman wasn’t listening. Instead it reared its ugly head, demanding to be satisfied yet again. His beast had the worst timing.
“The door’s locked.” Tara sat back in her seat.
“This one’s locked too.” Soren banged on the reinforced glass again, but it was as if the driver had turned a deaf ear.
Tara turned to him, her eyes wide with fear. “You said his name was Nergal.”
“Yes.” Donar searched under the seat for something he could use to break a window.
“You know him?”
“Nergal is a high-ranking deahman in hell,” Soren offered. He glanced at Donar. “When you mentioned a name, it triggered a memory.”
“It’s the face.” Donar would never forget the scar on the cheek and the menacing gaze. They had to get out of there. Nergal was powerful enough to control the minds of lesser deahmans, ones like Soren and himself. With one word, Donar’s whole world could come crashing down around his ears.
Even now he felt a compulsion to sit still and relax, to let the driver take them wherever he wanted them to go.
“I think he’s trying to brainwash us,” Donar said. He rubbed his temples as his memory flooded back to him in a rush. He remembered Darien now, and the mission. Fuck, Urian was in charge of the deahmans now. They were seriously screwed.
Soren agreed. “The sensation is weak though. I’m able to resist it.”
“It might be because we’re not in hell anymore.” Donar dragged his gaze away from Nergal and focused on Soren. “His powers are weaker here.”
“What are we going to do?” Tara asked.
“There isn’t much we can do until he stops,” Donar said. “Then we try to make a run for it.”
Tara shivered. “What if he brings us to more deahmans?”
Soren wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she inched closer into his arms. Donar felt a stab of jealousy. He should be the one she turned to for protection, not Soren.
Donar tore his gaze away and looked out the window. He didn’t understand his feelings or his fierce possessiveness of the woman. It was unrealistic. He’d have to sort everything out once they got safely away.
And they would get safely away. Anything less would be unacceptable.
They rode for a time in silence, then Nergal turned into a huge storage facility. He drove down to the last station, then cut the engine and honked the horn.
The door to the station opened and three more deahmans came forward. Nergal left the car to meet them.
Donar’s inner deahman rose to attention. Master. He forced it aside and focused on Tara. “We’ll create a distraction. Run as fast as you can and get help.”
“Like hell I will.” Tara pulled out her throwing star, her face determined. “You two are too important to us. I won’t risk another failure. I already have too many.”
Donar wanted to ask her what she meant by that statement. What did she fail at? Now wasn’t the time however. He filed the information away to go back to later, when they were all safe.
Soren leaned forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “We can’t let you—”
Her features hardened. “I saved your ass once, Mr. I’m-afraid-of-heights. I’m prepared to save it again.”
Donar did his best to hide a smile. The woman had a lot of spunk. He liked that.
Soren looked to him. “Did you hear what she just said to me?”
Donar nodded. “It sounds as if the woman doesn’t want your protection.”
“Well, what do you think we should do about it?”
It seemed right that Soren should ask him this, even though he couldn’t remember the man ever bowing to his judgment before. They had shared women, yes, but nothing like how they shared Tara back in the alley.
Mine. Donar fought back the deahman presence in his mind. Perhaps Soren’s deahman might have been a servant or a slave to his. It would explain the protectiveness Donar felt toward Soren, and why his twin liked being ordered around so much. Before the possession, Soren would have told Donar off if he tried to tell him to do something. Now it seemed like Soren almost begged to be ordered around. Donar wondered how Soren adjusted to the new presence. Did Soren the man like taking orders as much as his deahman?
“She fights,” Donar said.
“Okay, it’s probably just as well,” Soren responded.
He seemed to give in rather quickly. Donar frowned at Soren. “Why?”
“Because Nergal is heading back this way and he’s bringing his friends.”
Donar put his hand on his blade and got ready to spring into action. No one laid a hand on Soren and Tara without his approval and these bastards didn’t ask permission.
Now he was going to make them pay.
Chapter Ten
Soren focused on Nergal as he approached the car. Take out the leader, and the minions will scatter. With every second that passed, Soren was remembering more and more of his time in hell. Seeing Nergal must have triggered something. He recognized the deahman as one of the ones who had abused them when they first crossed over. The beady eyes and wry smile would be etched in his memory for a lifetime.
“Stay back. Let me go first.” He put his hand on Tara’s leg. Her body heat moved up through his fingers. Awareness tingled over his skin and a ripple of protectiveness washed over him. He had only known the woman beside him for a short time, but he felt a strange connection with her. He didn’t want anyone or anything to bring her harm.
Tara eased back closer to Donar. Soren glanced over his brother and nodded. Donar was anxious and worried, just like Tara. Both of their emotions were a continuous presence in his head since their time together in the alley, something that was very strange to him. He had a hard time separating his own emotions from theirs. Why could he detect what they were feeling now and not before in the hotel?
It didn’t matter. All three had the same emotions running through them. They wanted vengeance and to escape. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. He reached for his sword as the deahman put his hand on the door. Then he sensed a surge of adrenaline from Tara.
“Duck,” she commanded.
Soren moved on instinct and crouched low at the command. As the door opened Tara threw one of her throwing stars. Nergal ducked out of the way and the star hit the deahman behind him in the throat. Soren’s inner darkness surged, filling his mind. He jumped out of the car and swung his blade. A loud crunch echoed around him as the blade hit flesh. He swung through, cleanly slicing the head from the body.
It wasn’t Nergal, but it was a kill nonetheless. Soren felt powerful, just like he always did when his inner darkness took control. He turned around in time to see Tara and Donar jump out of the car. Donar’s eyes were glowing red, his blade ready. He gave a battle cry and charged into the middle of the group of deahmans.
“Go!” Tara retrieved her star and threw it into the small pack of deahmans. Soren stood guard to one side, his gaze sweeping the battle before him. Donar took out one monster, then turned to face another. Soren itched to go after him, to help his master in the fray.
He couldn’t leave Tara by herself, however. Someone had to protect her.
“I said go!” She shoved him toward the group.
He planted his feet in the ground and held himself at her side. “I won’t leave you.”
“I don’t need protection, you idiot!”
“Of course you do.” He glanced over his shoulder and caught Tara running back behind the hood of the cab. She crouched low and used it for protection as she threw throwing stars every which way. The woman was fast, he’d give her that. Still, he felt a deep need to protect her. No, he would not leave her side.
“For the love of the Goddess, just go!” she yelled. “I can take care of myself.”
The urge to fight was building. Soren’s deahman could sense the violence around him and wanted to participate. He turned back to the crowd and saw a deahman coming toward him. He swung his blade, but the monster ducked out of the way.
The deahman swung his axe at Soren and together they embarked on a deadly dance, first one gaining the advantage, then the other. Finally Soren tripped him with his foot and moved the blade in a wide arc, slicing through his neck. The deahman fell to the ground.
As soon as one was down, another took his place. Soren defeated him too, then quickly scanned the group looking for Donar. Soren spotted him fighting the last of the deahmans. It appeared he had the upper hand.
Good. Soren relaxed his sword and turned to Tara. She was leaning up against the cab, sweat beading on her brow. She was a gorgeous sight. Soren couldn’t believe how strong she was, both in mind and body. Never before had he seen a woman with so much determination and power. Desire rose up and the familiar craving gnawed away at his soul. His deahman wanted to claim her, possess her.
He caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. Soren flicked his gaze behind Tara. One of the deahmans rose up behind her small frame. How did he get there? He must have looped around Soren while he was fighting. Fear gripped his chest, making it difficult to breathe.
“Look out!”
Tara either didn’t hear him or ignored him. Soren knew that he couldn’t run around the car and attack, he’d never get there in time. Oblivious, Tara threw one more star. Soren didn’t wait to see where it landed. He took the hilt of the sword in his hands and held it as if it was a spear. His deahman roared in his ears and he let the dark presence take control of his body.
Mine.
He threw the sword with all of his strength. It shot through the air as though it was an arrow and sliced through the middle of the deahman’s chest. The creature grunted and stumbled back. Tara turned, surprise evident on her face. She whipped out two more stars and threw them. The deahman fell as they landed in the sides of his neck.
Soren jumped over the hood of the car, hardly paying attention as his leg skimmed the smooth metal of the hood. He landed next to the deahman and placed his foot on the creature’s chest. He sneered as he withdrew his sword. The monster hissed, his eyes red with rage.
“You…are a fool,” he rasped.
“No,” Soren responded. “You are the one who is a fool.” He swung the sword down and separated the creature’s head from his neck. “And now you are a dead fool.”
It was finished. Soren stood over the body as rage coursed through his veins.
Mine.
That thing tried to kill Tara.
Mine.
He looked up and met her gaze. No one was going to take her from him. No one.
He sheathed his sword. “Come here.”
Tara shivered. “Soren, are you okay? I feel all of this hatred.”
“Come here.” His voice rose. It was deep and rough, but he didn’t care, he was going to teach her to listen to his commands. What just happened was too close for comfort.
“When I speak, you will obey.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. She felt warm and soft. Soren’s inner deahman cried out with need, its scream of frustration ringing loud in his head.
He ground his teeth as he struggled for control. “Are you daft, woman? When I tell you to move, you move. You could have been killed.”
Tara stood still for a moment, her body frozen. He felt her fear radiate off her in waves. “I-I didn’t hear you.”
“I almost lost you.” Desperation rose up and overwhelmed him. There was something about this woman, a connection that had to be protected. He didn’t understand it, but he knew that it had to be preserved at all costs.
He dropped his sword and framed her face with his hands. “I won’t lose you.” He tilted her head and covered her lips with his own. She felt so soft, so warm. He wanted to sink deep inside of her and never let her go.
He felt her body melt, felt her hands come up and slip around his neck. His deahman howled with victory. He kissed her harder, wishing that he could somehow meld his body and thoughts with hers. Kissing was good, but it would never be enough. He needed to be closer…
Tara felt lightheaded. Never before had she been kissed like this. She swept her tongue in his mouth, enjoying his salty taste. It felt so good to be close to him, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to be inside of him, to read his thoughts and touch his soul.
Tara melted into his body and threaded her fingers into his hair. If only she could pull the man inside of her, keep him close. Kissi
ng would never be enough, touching would never be enough. The only thing that would satisfy this craving would be to finish the bonding ritual that they started, but to do that, she would need his permission.
An Iatros only felt sexual desire with their mate. It was deep and instantaneous. She knew that what they were both feeling would continue to grow until she was allowed to finish the binding ritual that would seal them together for the rest of their lives.
“Ahem.”
Soren broke away from the kiss. Tara’s mind spun and she felt unstable on her feet. Soren turned her around and held her protectively against her chest. She felt warm and safe there. It felt right. She was thankful that he held her, because she wasn’t sure that she was going to remain upright otherwise.
Donar flashed them a sexy half-smile. “Aren’t I going to get a victory kiss too?”
Tara felt the sudden urge to go to him, but Soren held her in place.
“The taint isn’t gone from your eyes, my friend. I don’t want you to harm her,” Soren said.
“It isn’t gone from yours either.” Tara couldn’t mistake the humor in Donar’s voice. He held out his hand. “I want to claim my kiss.”
“But—”
“That’s an order, Soren.” Gone was the humor and wry smile. Small lines formed along his temples as he wiggled his fingers impatiently.
Soren made a frustrated noise and loosened his grip around her waist. Tara looked up at him, uncertain. She felt his anger fading and his embarrassment rising. Whatever had control of him moments ago had gone.
He nodded to her. “Go on.”
She turned back to Donar and took his hand. “One kiss, then we need to get out of here and find Darien.”
Donar squeezed her fingers. “One kiss is all I ask.”
His hand was warm, reassuring. She could feel the pull of his soul. Before she realized what she was doing, Tara left Soren’s arms and moved closer to Donar.
His heat and scent surrounded her. She looked up into his deep, crimson eyes. His smile faded as he hooked his finger underneath her chin and lifted her head. She closed her eyes as mouth covered hers.