Shadows of the Keeper

by Karey Brown

  “Be careful your barbs fail to protect you from your fears.”

  He charged. Viciously, he grasped the back of her soaked hair, yanking her head back, commanding her attention. “What, Emily, do you think I fear?” he hissed ferociously, making sure she had fill view of his fangs.

  “Love.” She wrenched free his grasp, sidestepping his tall frame. Clutching her towel tightly, she stormed her exit from the gigantic bathroom, stopping just short of vacating his presence. “I think, Dezenial, you are much in comparison to Broc: very needful to clutch hate, but sadly lacking when the heart begins to open. Be warned, I no longer own a heart. You crushed it when you left me; Broc soaked up what was left and annihilated it with his hateful words. Screw both of you!” She stormed out. Little did she realize her words, to this god, were just that—words. For Dezenial was embedded in her mind; her deepest thoughts. Had she remained and seen the slow smile slithering across his face, she probably would have clawed him. That thought made him grin even more. Because what his little Emily thought to bury deeply in the secret folds of her most inner thoughts nearly bowled him over.

  She loved him.

  It would be very interesting to see how fiercely she remained in denial.

  It will remain interesting to see how long you remain in denial, my son.

  Dezenial’s fists clenched against Hades’ taunting laughter, reverberating within his head.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Dezenial,” she muttered from the side of her mouth. “This feels awkward. Six guards surrounding me, really?”

  “Ayea nitag.”

  “Oh, for the love of God, what did it say this time?”

  Inzyr scowled. “You will learn the language.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not interested in becoming fluent in Horror.”

  “Repeat my words. Perhaps their meaning will prevent you from roaming.”

  “You want me to say all that? Okay, Perhaps their meaning will prevent you from roaming. There, how’s that? I even managed to mimic your accent.” Almost, she stuck out her tongue.

  Dezenial chortled.

  “I want you to understand Balkore is not that stone and mortar dwelling your Forest Lords reside in. Down here, curiosity will be your death,” Inzyr stated, his expression icy.

  “Give me some credit, will you? I know better than to go exploring in Lumynari domain. I hated Halloween haunted houses, why would I want to play in yours?” This time, she did stick out her tongue.

  Glowing green rocks morphed Inzyr’s face into something alien. “You will repeat my words, Princess Emily.” Without waiting for her to acquiesce, the assassin proceeded with language lessons, repeating over and over his words until Emily said them correctly.

  “It will suffice for now.”

  “And it’s meaning that I oh-so-need-to-know?”

  “Avoiding assassinations. You have learned two important words, and why we keep you surrounded with elite guards.”

  Emily looked up at Dezenial as they walked. “Couldn’t we have just brought him back a doggy bag? A chew toy for not piddling on your rug?”

  Dezenial grinned. Inzyr snorted.

  His eyes, no matter the insufficient lighting, caused her heart to flutter. She squashed the momentary lapse in sense, amusing herself with the image of stomping the emotion until it was nothing more than dust.

  Their journey continued down a long cavernous corridor, green eventually giving way to flickering orange from numerous torches. Only thing missing was a band of pirates creeping towards buried treasure. Though the ground was smoother here, she still kept the train looped over her arm, fearing she’d snag the beautiful sapphire silk.

  “Do no fret your gown, Keer’dra. My apologies it is not of the highest quality for you.”

  “I’m not that kind of girl, Dez. This dress is breathtaking, but I’d be just as comfortable in my jeans and a good sweater. Warmer too.” She smoothed the waist hugging her now very slim form. The neckline dipped rather low, and the built in corset pushed her breasts up like a right proper medieval maiden. Though she felt overly exposed, it had been a heady experience when Dezenial’s eyes had smoldered.

  He’d gifted her with the gown. With it had come an invitation to dine with him amongst his elite. Warning of treachery amongst these chosen guests, she was to be wary her temper and quick tongue. She held up two fingers and gave scouts honor to obey. Dezenial had smirked, then presented her with female slaves more anxious to meet and assist her than she’d thought necessary. Shouldn’t they be sorrowful, their current plight of servitude? None were allowed to converse directly with her, Cianna, their caretaker, was the only one granted such privileges. The height and silliness of children, they claimed to be in their eighties. Emily would ask the details later, for they’d looked to be no more than teens. In fact, she had an entire slew of questions to ask Dezenial, once they were alone. Alone. With Dezenial. She stumbled. One of her escorts quickly grasped her arm, steadying her. She smiled her appreciation, surprised she received a grunt in return; surprised he had long black hair versus the luminous white of Lumynari.

  Dezenial. Alone.

  She was torn between kicking him in his very sexy ass, or tackling him to the floor to molest whatever treasures lay hidden in his erotically tight leather pants. Oblivious to Dezenial’s wolfish grin, Emily thought back, with increasing annoyance, how he’d refused to give her privacy while she’d dressed. They’d tugged the towel away, beckoning she step into the gown. Ever so slowly, it was pulled up, pausing its ascent to whisper around her thighs before raising more to hug her breasts. Lacing the sides and then the back, pushing everything up even more, giggles had escaped a few of her servants—she refused to call them slaves. Emily had glared across at Dezenial. He’d reciprocated with arousal glowing in his eyes as the handmaidens slipped tiny pearl buttons into their loops at each of her cuffs. By the time her hem was raised, shoes of the softest velvet slipped upon her feet, his fangs were long and lethal. Her tongue darted out, swiping her bottom lip. She failed to realize, in Lumynari, she was offering silent promise of sexual gratification.

  Dezenial had looked both irritated and relieved by Inzyr’s sudden arrival.

  The assassin had entered, apparently above the need to knock first. The women immediately ceased their chatter, eyeing him fearfully. They gathered their clutter, hustling from Emily’s chambers. Dezenial slipped into an adjoining chamber.

  “Tse’ ja.”

  “I don’t understand your words.” Butthead.

  Barked laughter erupted from the next chamber. Emily frowned at the partially open door. Inzyr’s scowl deepened. Stop monitoring my thoughts, wretch.

  “You will begin language lessons soon. I simply called you beautiful,” Inzyr stated.

  “Um, thank you. Tongue’s burning from the compliment, isn’t it?”

  “If we do not acquire ice soon, I fear I may begin emitting smoke.”

  Emily had the grace to grin. “Save your compliments and I’ll save pretending I like you.”

  Corpse cold, Inzyr leaned back, his head tilted to rest against the wall. Assassin eyes, however, remained leveled on her. Tonight, his attire consisted of a black jerkin—at least this time he wore some semblance of something on his torso—and black leggings. Long white hair was pulled away from his face, plaited and falling down his back much like a glowing rope. She suspected his act of being oh-so-casual was just that, an act. Tension crackled from him. Leashed. And who controls the beast’s muzzle? You, Dez? She envisioned Dezenial walking this dog up to a tree so the beast could lift its leg and—

  Another bout of laughter erupted from Dezenial’s chamber. Inzyr pushed away from the wall, looked to the chamber and then at her. Emily was about to ask the assassin which he preferred, trees or hydrants? But, right at that moment, Dezenial had practically exploded from his chamber—

  “We are here.”

  Emily flinched out of her reverie.

  “Do not look for conversation, Keer�
��dra. I have forbidden it.”

  “Somehow, I doubt any of your buddies have the latest CNN report, or what’s on sale at Victoria’s Secret.”

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  “Lumynari cross-dressers? Who knew.”

  Dezenial glared. “I do not wish webs to be weaved around your naivety.” His large hand descended to the small of her back. Flutters erupted at his touch, searing an invisible imprint of his hand through the fabric of her gown.

  Double doors opened on cue.

  Jeweled goblets glittered from atop the rows upon rows of long tables, draped in pristine white linens. Intricate candelabras flooded the vast dining hall with romantic lighting. She’d expected a tavern, topless wenches, and testosterone charged beasts bashing their heads against one another. Dezenial smirked behind her. “I can take you to such a place, if you prefer, Keer’dra.”

  Emily didn’t hear him. She halted, unsure of herself. Hundreds of sophisticated Lumynari, garbed in all manners of dress from warriors to velvets, immediately stood, their heads bowed. She was from Texas, whereas, these were regal—

  “Keer’dra, you are with me.”

  “Do they do this every time you enter the room?”

  “Must I go above and kill my dinner?” Inzyr asked.

  Emily smiled sweetly. “I could throw you a bone, give you something to gnaw before you chase your tail and settle for the night.”

  Inzyr lunged. Dezenial’s hand upon his chest halted his deadly intent. Emily noted how the guards hadn’t even flinched. Huh, so they’re to protect me from everything but the stooge. Interesting. Dezenial scowled down at her. “Why must you provoke him?”

  “Can’t help it. He’s like a caged beast, and I just have to keep sticking my fingers near it.”

  Inzyr smirked. “Caged beasts bite.”

  “Owners pull triggers.” Emily blew the tip of her index finger to emphasize her point.

  “Enough! You two will have your battle later. For now, we dine on the terrace.” Dezenial stated. “Look at no one, Emily. If you do, it will be perceived as a challenge.” He then chuckled softly as their party moved forward again.

  “Dare I ask what amuses you?”

  “I ponder their reaction should they witness your temper.” He leaned down, closer to her ear. “I have heard stories of a certain jailor not taking well to your flames.”

  “Shut up. I killed him in self-defense. I have to live with that knowledge for the rest of my life.”

  “Yes, tell me, do you suffer for it?”

  “Haven’t lost sleep over his ugly ass yet.”

  Dezenial’s laugh was low, throaty, his eyes glittering. “Hellcat.”

  “I can’t believe you watched me dress.” Her mouth quirked. “I didn’t get to watch you.”

  “I will watch you sleep as well.” Azure eyes raked her breasts. Again, she stumbled, this time it was Dezenial’s arm wrapping around her.

  “And when will you sleep, or warrior of mine?”

  “When my arms are tightly wound around you, and I can feel the rise and fall of your naked breasts pressing against my chest you forever daydream about licking.”

  “Ack! Jeeze, Dez. Discretion.” She glanced around, mortified those walking with them had overheard his words.

  “We are brutally honest,” Inzyr stated, observing them. “Forever in need of sex, I might add.” A snort escaped him. “Dez?” Soft laughter was heard over their footsteps.

  Emily threw him a scathing look over her shoulder. “Wanna know my nickname for you?”

  Again, Dezenial laughed. “You two will cease long enough for me to enjoy my meal and observe.”

  Emily lifted her chin and hem and followed the guards through a secondary set of heavy doors being held open for them. A very long, wide table was set up as opulently as those she’d just passed. As in the previous dining room, here the occupants stood, their heads bowed. Emily wasn’t sure if she wanted to get used to this treatment, or run screaming from the ridiculousness of it. Yesterday, an office manager for a real estate agency; today, a queen. And, she was about to train in magicks with a belligerent assassin . . . and she’d been brutally beaten, whipped, her clothing—

  “Keer’dra?”

  Her chair had been pulled out. How long had she zoned? Embarrassed, she quickly sat as it was tuck underneath her. “Thank you.”

  Everyone remained standing. They were watching her. Had she just committed some Lumynari etiquette snafu? Dezenial snarled at his other guests in his language, his expression frightening. I will be brave, I will be brave, I will be brave. I can do this, I can do this, I can do this. “Inzyr isn’t joining us?”

  “He stands. Better to observe.” Dezenial glared at all present before settling into a chair that looked more like the jowls of an angry beast. Fitting. His eyes flicked over her, but she ignored that he’d more than likely read her observation.

  “Observes?”

  “Those who think to attack.”

  “In your kingdom? Wouldn’t they be stupid to try?”

  “Right now, I am taking advice from your species of humans by keeping my enemies close.”

  “Is this why I’m here?”

  Amber gaze locked with blue.

  “Your question does not warrant an answer. Now,” he unfolded a linen napkin and placed it upon his lap. “You will disregard what we eat. I have requested a special meal for you.”

  “Cheeseburgers?”

  “Cheeseburgers?”

  Emily giggled. They sounded like the skit she’d seen on old Saturday Night Live re-runs with John Belushi. “Flattened meat.” She motioned with her hands. “Melted cheese. In-between two thick slices of bread called buns. Ketchup, mustard, mmmmm, mayonnaise and pickles—God, I’d part with anything for pickles, and French fries.” Her voice became husky. “Oh, the pleasure of French fries.”

  “I will be sure to seek this pleasure and acquire it for you as soon as possible.”

  She eyed him skeptically. “I think you’re making fun of me.”

  “I’m intrigued what you will part with for this pleasure of French fries. I assure you, they are soon to be placed in front of you.”

  Emily’s eyes narrowed. “Perv. What are we having, Dezenial?”

  A few eyed her, pausing their muted conversations. Maybe I should shine Dez’s boots to reaffirm I’m a good little prisoner. Better yet, I could shine his very defined derriere. Spit shine. Yum-yum!

  Spontaneous grinning made his eyes twinkle.

  Gouging his eyes replaced her imagination.

  White brow arched, daring her.

  She battled the temptation. How dare he read her every thought?

  He clapped his hands twice. She flinched. Midsized males moved towards the table, carrying large trays, silver domes concealing their contents. Upon her plate, sizzling steak and baked potato were revealed, butter and sour cream oozing.

  She salivated. “Remind me how much I absolutely love you,” she gushed, until eyeing her neighbor’s plate. “Things are squiggling on his plate, Dez!”

  Ignoring Inzyr’s snort over her use of her pet name for him in such a public setting, Dezenial leaned closer to Emily. “Do not take a bite quite yet, love.”

  “What, more Lumynari torture? I’m to just breathe in these heavenly aromas? Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had steak? I’m from Texas. We practically eat the cow while it’s still grazing. Perhaps if I start gnawing your arm—“

  “You prefer taking the first bite and seconds later, writhing until death releases your agony of poison?”

  “Steak is overrated.”

  Inzyr’s voice broke against intensifying silence, his expression severe towards the line of servers. Whatever he said, Emily watched as a waiter—if you could call a garbed monster a waiter—pulled away from the cowering group, shuffled hesitantly towards Emily and waited. Towering over the beast no higher than his waist, Inzyr freed a treacherous looking dagger from his jerkin.

  She hoped n
ever to come up against Inzyr.

  “I would have you slice your dinner and offer a sample to the Im’pyur, Highness,” Inzyr commanded. Emily complied, hating that all eyes pulsated on her. Inzyr’s out-of-character deference to her status, that he was also public about it, conveyed this was deadly serious. Of course, his orders had been uttered in English. Perhaps their guest did not speak her language.

  They understood, Keer’dra. Speaking your language sends a loud message that you fall under his protection, not just mine.

  Pushing a piece of meat to the edge of her plate, she hated seeing her hand tremble as it did. If she was conscience of it, so was everyone else. And she just knew these fiends breast-fed on fear. While mental chuckling from Dezenial filled her head, Emily also cut away a bit of potato and added it to the taste-tester-portion. Call me paranoid, but I’m not having my tongue swell and my face fall off because Brutus Butler here soaked my potato in poisons and spells. Dezenial’s sudden frown gave her a small measure of satisfaction. Silenced that damn laughter of yours, eh? His eyes flicked to her, signaling he’d received her mental snit.

  Unsympathetically, he observed the creature sampling Emily’s fare. Ordered to be both cook and server exclusively for Emily, the Im’pyur had been granted a private section of kitchen, forbidden entrance by any other. A master cook well versed in preparation of food for the human palate, his existence rested solely on creating pleasing fare for Emily, though Dezenial would still enjoy having his penchant for spicy Indian cuisine satisfied as well. If this abomination began writhing from poison, none would leave this table alive. He almost hoped for the excuse. Inzyr had his orders as well. Recent treachery—Emily’s incarceration—had at last been narrowed down to one siting amongst them. He was in accordance with the assassin: elimination of present company equated elimination of disloyalty, for every creature currently at this table had their hand in Emily’s demise. The trick was to let them hang themselves as to which of them commanded the others.