by I. T. Lucas
“No need, princess. But I would take an IOU for a future favor.”
“You got it. What should I tell Annani?”
“I’m on my way down to the dungeon. As soon as I’m done there, I’ll come up and escort her to the prisoner. It seems she refused Kian’s offer to do the honors, which by the way, he sounded quite peeved about. He wants me to stay glued to her side at all times.”
“I’ll tell her to be ready. See you later.” Amanda terminated the call and turned to give her mother a hug.
“You did it, Ninni.”
Annani’s smug face had I-told-you-so written all over it. “I’m glad Anandur, and not Kian, will come to escort me down to the dungeon. I was not sure about Kian’s compliance with this part of my request. “
“You mean, us,” Amanda corrected.
“No, child, I am going to see the prisoner by myself. You can visit him after I come back.”
“But why? Anandur is going to be there, and probably other Guardians as well,” Amanda whined.
“Your presence there will distract Dalhu. I want his full and undivided attention, and I do not want him choosing his words carefully and omitting things on your account.”
For a moment, Amanda considered producing a little sniffle or two to soften her mother’s resolve. But as one drama queen to another, she suspected her antics wouldn’t work on Annani.
And besides, she could use the time to choose an outfit and make herself pretty.
The tough part was to decide what look she was going for. Elegant and refined? Sexy? Casual?
What did she want to achieve on her first visit?
Sex, of course, was foremost on her mind. After the little taste Dalhu had given her at the cabin, she couldn’t wait to finish what had been so harshly interrupted.
The memory of the incomparable pleasure he’d wrought out of her was still so fresh, she felt her breasts grow heavy and her core spasm with need.
Amanda shivered.
She had the nagging suspicion that mortals just wouldn’t do anymore.
After having been exposed to the exquisite taste of such rare wine, going back to the meh variety would be a serious letdown. Better go without than compromise for something subpar.
Trouble was, the rare wine came from a forbidden fruit.
It would have been so much easier if she had been able to forget all about Dalhu and give Andrew a chance. Andrew and Kian seemed to get along fabulously, and everyone else would welcome Syssi’s brother into the family with open arms.
Heck, maybe she would. Fates knew the whole thing with Dalhu was tenuous.
Andrew was a great guy, and what’s more, he obviously still wanted her, even after that talk they had on the way to the chopper, during which she’d made sure that he had no illusions as to the sort of woman he was pining for. He knew who and what she was. Except there was always the chance that, like most guys, Andrew had been blindsided by her beauty, but she didn’t think so. Andrew wasn’t the impressionable type.
Dalhu, on the other hand, believed Amanda could walk on water. And that was while he was still clueless about who she really was. Though not for long. After the chat he was going to have with her mother, the cat would be out of the bag. And heavens only knew how he’d react to that.
He might resent her for keeping this information from him, and there was the distinct possibility that he would be intimidated by her status.
Or, he might react the way she hoped he would, telling her that there was nothing that could change the way he felt about her.
Amanda chuckled. Dalhu had no idea how apt he’d been when he’d called her princess, or how much this Princess Buttercup liked having her own as-you-wish-guy.
She sighed. Sex would have to wait.
They needed to talk.
CHAPTER 12: DALHU
Down at his cell, Dalhu tensed as the whiz of the pneumatic bolts retracting preceded the slow swing-out motion of his cell’s door.
How heavy was that thing that an immortal male couldn’t swing it open manually? Or were they just too spoiled to exert themselves by pushing it?
Figures, with all that money…
“It’s your lucky day, frog.” The redheaded Guardian walked in with a small bundle of clothes under his arm.
“Frog?”
Was this some new kind of insult he wasn’t familiar with?
“You know, like in the princess and the frog story. The princess kisses a frog and he turns into a prince. Though in your case, you’re no prince, just a garden variety frog.” Anandur handed him the small bundle. “Here, I brought you some fresh clothes.”
“Why?” Dalhu was genuinely perplexed. The clothes Anandur was handing him didn’t look like prison garb, and even though his captors were rich, it didn’t mean that they were obliged to provide their enemies with anything more than the bare necessities. And it wasn’t as if he was offending their sensibilities by wearing dirty or torn stuff. Hell, Dalhu was better dressed than the Guardian. The plain grey T-shirt the guy was wearing looked like something he had paid five bucks for at a discount store.
“Because I’m just nice like that.” Anandur winked. “Go change, I’m moving you to a better room.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the kindness, but I’m suspicious of what you would want in return…” He regarded the redhead warily. The guy didn’t strike him as gay, but maybe he was just very good at fronting a hetero. After all, not all gay men flamboyantly overdramatized femininity. Though, in Anandur’s case, the Guardian would have to be a superb actor to project such powerful masculine, heterosexual vibe.
Anandur snorted. “As I’ve said before, you’re not my type. Get over it, dude, and go change. I promise not to peek.” He winked again, this time licking his lips in an obvious leer.
The guy must be just messing with me… or is he?
Going behind the privacy wall, Dalhu hesitated before taking his clothes off. But a quick glance at the Guardian reassured him he had nothing to worry about. The guy was leaning against the wall and watching something on his phone.
Still, better to be quick about it.
Taking a one minute turn in the shower, Dalhu washed again. Not that he felt dirty, but he hated the idea of changing into fresh clothes without washing first.
“You’re oddly fastidious, for a Doomer,” Anandur commented as Dalhu came out dressed in the new, or rather used clothes.
Surprisingly, they fit, though barely, and he suspected that their original owner was the redhead. Anandur was almost the same size as Dalhu, maybe an inch or two shorter, but he was bulkier, probably outweighing Dalhu by a dozen pounds or so.
“You’ve got a problem with that?” Dalhu was used to taunts about what the other guys considered as his excessive bathing habits.
“No, not at all, to the contrary. It is just that I find it unusual for you guys.” Anandur opened the door and they stepped out into the wide corridor. “The others I had the displeasure of getting acquainted with, stank to high heavens.” The Guardian grimaced. “I hate stinkers,” he grated, stopping in front of another door and punching a code into the panel.
Inside, two males, Guardians by the look of them, were seated at a round dining table, busy playing a card game. There was also a sofa, and two armchairs, as well as a flat screen TV. No bed, though. But there was another door, maybe leading to a separate bedroom?
They gave him a suite?
What the hell was going on?
“These are my comrades, Bhathian and Arwel.” Anandur made the introduction. The men nodded and went back to their game.
Evidently, there was no need to introduce Dalhu.
He turned to his unlikely new friend. Granted, referring to Anandur as a friend was a stretch, but at least the Guardian wasn’t openly hostile and treated Dalhu decently. “Please, tell me what’s going on? And why am I suddenly treated like royalty?”
“You’re not, but your visitor is.”
“What visitor?”
�
��And what? Spoil the surprise? No way.”
Dalhu’s heart skipped a beat. Was it Amanda? Was she coming to see him?
Except, why call her royalty…
Anandur had called her princess, but Dalhu had assumed the guy meant it as a form of endearment, same way he had. If not for the lavish suite and the additional guards, he would’ve dismissed the whole thing as Anandur’s peculiar sense of humor. But now he wondered. Was Amanda someone important? Aside from the importance of her research, that is?
“Enough with the fish-out-of-water thing. Go plant your butt on that sofa. Do not get up or make any sudden movements until after your guest leaves. Am I clear?” Anandur was all business now, all traces of humor gone.
Dalhu didn’t get the fish-out-of-water reference, but he had no problem understanding the rest. Anandur and the two other Guardians were there to ensure the mysterious guest’s safety, and if Dalhu even twitched the wrong way, they were going to jump on him.
For the life of him, though, he couldn’t understand why they didn’t just put him in chains. Better yet, strap an electric collar around his throat and zap him if he made a suspicious move.
In their shoes, this was what he would’ve done.
The Guardians didn’t carry any visible weapons either. They must be very confident in their hand-to-hand to forgo those while guarding him.
Not that he doubted their abilities. He had been at the receiving end of the Guardians’ fighting skills time and again. Not personally, but they had proven their superiority over the men he had sent against them.
“I’m leaving you in the capable hands of my colleagues. Don’t give them any trouble while I’m gone.” Anandur pointed a finger at Dalhu and pulled open the door.
Dalhu nodded, and Anandur stepped out, closing it behind him.
Dalhu heard the whiz of the lock engaging. The door to this room was nothing like the monster securing his previous lodging, but he wasn’t fooled by its slender profile. It was probably reinforced with thin titanium rods, which locked into a doorjamb that was probably enhanced as well. The Guardians were not stupid. They wouldn’t put him in a room he could break out of.
Unless, this was only a temporary reprieve, and he would be returned to that tiny cell after his mysterious rendezvous was over.
Shortly after Anandur left him under the watchful eyes of the two Guardians, a stout, weird looking butler brought in a tray of assorted appetizers and placed it on the coffee table in front of Dalhu.
The two Guardians eyed the thing with interest but refrained from sampling.
The butler walked up to the double door cabinet behind the dining area and opened it, revealing a well-stocked bar. He pulled out a carafe, filled it with some dark liquid from the fridge, and together with two crystal goblets brought it over to the coffee table.
The one named Arwel got up from his seat, leaving his cards face down on the table, and stepped up to the bar. He poured himself a drink.
“You want something?” he asked the other one.
“No. I don’t drink before lunch,” the surly one bit out.
Arwel shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He set down with his large drink in hand and picked up his cards.
No one thought to ask Dalhu. Not that he would’ve accepted. He didn’t drink before lunch either. And anyway, it was imperative for him to stay sharp for the audience with his guest—whoever he might be. Or she… hopefully, she…
“Yeah. It’s all good… No, nothing at all,” Arwel said, though it didn’t look like he was addressing Bhathian. The tone and the small pause indicated that he was talking to someone outside the room, and a quick glance confirmed the almost invisible earpiece hiding under the guy’s hair.
Dalhu tensed. Watching the door, he squared his shoulders and forced his hands to stay loose on top of his knees—palms down.
He heard the mechanized buzz and then the click of the lock a moment before the door swung open.
Anandur stepped in and nodded his head once, approving of Dalhu’s obedient pose, before stepping aside to let the important guest in.
Looking up, Dalhu almost missed the first clue, but following Anandur’s eyes, he glanced down and saw a dainty foot cross the doorjamb, followed by a tiny red-haired female in a long black dress.
She turned her face to him, and time stopped, then exploded like a bolt of lightning.
Later, when he’d think back to this moment, he’d remember that it felt like being shocked by a mighty bolt of electric power, but sans the pain, only the glory.
Forgetting Anandur’s warning, Dalhu did what he was compelled to. He dropped to his knees and prostrated himself before the Goddess.
“It’s okay. He’s just awestruck.” He dimly heard Arwel stopping Bhathian from lunging forward.
Awestruck could not begin to describe it.
She was the real thing—a real Goddess—and she was magnificent.
For some reason, whenever he thought of Annani, he imagined a female version of Navuh. A tall, dark, majestic woman, with an angry scowl permanently etched on her handsome face.
The real Annani was so far beyond of whatever a mortal or an immortal could conjure in his imagination.
She was otherworldly.
Awesome power, indescribable beauty…
And love…
Dalhu felt guilt crushing down on him like an anvil—couldn’t fathom how he could’ve ever hated this… this Goddess?
For the first time in his life, he understood the meaning of the word sacrilege. As one who had never believed in a higher power, he had sneered at those who were offended by what they perceived as disrespect for their deity.
But if he had known the real Annani, he would’ve been more than offended. He would’ve been outraged by any negative comment about her. And to think he’d been guilty of much worse? That he’d harbored hate in his heart for a goddess that was the material representation of love and beauty and all that was good?
“Oh, my dear boy, there is no need for that. Please rise.” Her voice sounded like heavenly chimes.
More than anything, Dalhu wanted to obey, but he was frozen in place.
“Come on, frog. Up you go.” Anandur’s amused voice managed to break the spell, and Dalhu lifted to his knees.
The Goddess was so small that from his kneeling position he was almost eye to eye with her. He caught a glimpse of her smile before lowering his eyes.
“It is permitted to gaze upon my face, and you do not need to kneel either. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa. I wish to converse with you.” She gave him a little pat on the top of his head.
Awkwardly, he pushed back to sit without standing first, afraid his towering height would somehow be offensive to her. Never mind that Anandur wasn’t that much shorter than him. But then again, Anandur wasn’t a hated enemy either.
As the Goddess gracefully lowered herself into one of the armchairs, from behind her, Anandur pointed a finger at Dalhu in warning, then moved to join his friends at the card table.
“Lift your head and let me see you,” she commanded.
He did, taking a furtive look at her impossible face, child-like and yet ancient.
She regarded him in silence, her smart eyes appraising. “I understand now what my daughter sees in you. You are very handsome, strong.”
Daughter? Like a real daughter? Or did the Goddess refer to all of her progeny as her children?
She must’ve read his mind. “Yes, Dalhu, Amanda is my daughter.” She smirked. “The youngest child of my womb,” she clarified.
Struck by lightning, again.
Speechless.
Hopeless.
The little hope he had harbored that Amanda would somehow find a way for them to be together had just been pulverized.
“Do not look so despondent, Dalhu. Where there is a will, there is a way.” She winked…
Annani, the only Goddess known to exist, had actually winked at him…
“Now, tell me more about the danger to my daught
er.”
Dalhu dropped his head. Choosing his words carefully, he swallowed and cleared his throat. “My men know that Amanda is an immortal and that she works at the university. It wouldn’t have been an issue if she remained in hiding. With me—”
He swallowed again, his eyes flickering over to the Goddess’s face. Her expression remained impassive.
“Now, that she is back home, Amanda will want to resume her work. I know how important this research is to her… to all of you.” Dalhu glanced at the Goddess again.
She nodded.
“Time is of the essence. Reinforcements are arriving shortly, and once they do, containing this will become impossible. We have a small window of opportunity to eliminate the threat.”
“They might have already surrendered the information,” she countered.
“I didn’t inform my superiors about Amanda, and the men’s low ranking prohibits them from calling headquarters directly. Besides, they will do nothing without being ordered to do so. They’ll wait for me to come back or for my replacement to arrive.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Positive.”
“Well, in that case, we definitely need to make our move quickly. However, I am not keen on using the extreme measures you suggest.”
“Every member of the Brotherhood you get rid of is one less threat to you and your clan. If this were my family—and despite your opinion of me, I consider Amanda and by extension all of you as such—I would’ve done everything I could to keep it safe.”
In the background, he heard the snorts and humphs his proclamation had elicited, but he ignored the Guardians, focusing on the Goddess instead.
Annani was difficult to read, but he had a feeling she approved. And hers was the only opinion that mattered.
Still, minutes passed as she mulled it over before she spoke again. “I wonder. Is it common in the Brotherhood? This every-man-for-himself attitude? And I mean no offense by it, but I wonder how such organization functions without its members being loyal to each other.” She tilted her head a little, the mass of her big, red curls sliding over one delicate shoulder.
Dalhu lifted his hand to rub at his mouth but then hastily dropped it back to his knee, heeding Anandur’s warning. Besides, who knew what the Goddess considered as good manners, and avoiding unnecessary hand movements seemed like a safe bet. “No, it’s not common. However, the simple soldiers’ chief loyalty is to the cause and to Navuh. Their own lives and those of their comrades are deemed inconsequential, and they are more than happy to make the ultimate sacrifice on the altar of the holy war,” he bit out.
