Lord of the Vampires and The Darkest Angel and The Amazon's Curse and The Darkest Prison
Page 7
“Oh, good. You’re back to your normal self.”
Normal self? What did that mean? “Rest.” Once they were strengthened, he could return to the palace, sneak inside, kill Laila and her mother and find the healer, as planned. Before he left, he would erect defenses so that Jane could stay here, safe.
Once his memories had been returned, his powers restored, he would come back for her. They would travel to Elden together.
His hands tightened into fists. Elden. What awaited him in Elden, besides his desire to kill a king he had never met? At least, not to his knowledge. All he knew was that the man had slaughtered the former sovereigns, claiming the crown by brute force.
Nicolai had heard palace servants gossiping about the royal change. Yesterday, or a hundred years ago, he wasn’t sure. Whatever time spell the witches had cast over the palace caused minutes to eke by for everyone inside, the days blending together, a blur you could never count.
Nicolai wondered if he’d ever met the former sovereigns. Perhaps even guarded them. While he could not picture them, he could visualize their palace without problem. A towering monstrosity built more for withstanding attack than aesthetics. A lush green forest surrounded a lake, and that lake surrounded the structure. There was no discernable entryway other than the guard walkway—a walkway he knew better than he knew the angles of his own face. He longed for that palace, that lake, that forest. Knew the land would smell of sea salt and pine. Thought he could hear the echo of his booted footsteps as he ran to…do something, hug someone, perhaps. Thought he could hear a woman’s deep-throated chuckle and a man’s gruff grunt of approval. A pang of love and homesickness, followed by a wave of hate, swept through him.
Love? Homesickness? Hate? Why? He must learn the answers. He must kill the new king.
A dull ache bloomed in his temples, and he ceased that line of thought. For now.
Jane hobbled in front of him, and placed her hands on his shoulders. At the moment of contact, his fangs lengthened and his gums ached. Just a little taste…
No! Not yet. He soaked in her presence instead, distracting his unnecessary hunger with her electrifying beauty. Electrifying, because she had somehow brought him back to life.
That fall of honey-colored hair, framing a face as pure and unique as a snowflake, begged for a man’s fingers. Her ocher eyes were no longer haunted, but determined. Her cheeks were rosy—with desire, despite her weakened, abused condition—a sheen of perspiration from the sultry night air making her glow. She’d tied the fabric of her robe together and the knots on her shoulders teased him. With only a tug, they would unwind and he could—
No, he thought again. He would not entertain such lustful thoughts until she was healed. Then… Oh, yes, then.
Seeing her whipped for his actions had not only broken something inside him, it had awoken something inside him. Not to mention that smile of hers… She shouldn’t have smiled at him.
“The key,” he said. “Free my neck.” He used his tongue to move that key from the side of his mouth to between his teeth.
“My pleasure.” She unlocked the ring. The heavy binding tumbled to the ground with a thump. “We should probably get going. The sun will come out soon.” Though she’d hobbled, her voice was firm, strong. “If you guys have a sun. And if time has kicked back into gear for us. Someone mentioned Delfina is ageless.”
“Not ageless. Those who reside in the palace age much slower. And yes, out here there is a sun, a day and a night.”
“We have to hide you, then. We don’t want you bursting into flames.”
His brow furrowed. “I am not a nightwalker.” How had she known about nightwalkers and the way they burst into flames?
“Oh, well…” She paled, swallowed. “Well, in my world, vampires are considered a myth. In books and movies, you guys always burst into flames—or glitter—when you step into sunlight.”
Glitter? “I am, perhaps, more sensitive to the sun’s rays than others in this realm, but I am nothing like the nightwalkers. At worst, I will burn and blister.”
“Oh. Good.” Her relief was palpable.
Such a strong reaction, when she’d had no cause to worry. And yet, that worry pleased him. He liked her concern. Liked what it meant. Already she cared.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, nibbling on her bottom lip.
His stomach clenched at the sight of her teeth, doing what he wanted to do. “Something you enjoy.” He placed his throbbing hands over hers, preventing her from drawing away.
“Yes, well.” Her tongue emerged, swiping where she’d bitten. “We’ve been going in circles, which means Laila the harpy told the truth. You are cursed to remain in Delfina.”
The sight of her tongue did far more damage to his control than the sight of her teeth. How easy it would be to lean down, lick, sample, savor. Not until she heals. Another reminder. Also, not until she begs. You promised. “I know,” he said more harshly than he’d intended.
“Oh.” Her nose scrunched adorably, easing the sting of his self-directed anger. “Well, you could have told me. I’ve worried, expecting you to argue and trying to formulate my own argument for whichever direction you could have taken. Anyway, you might have been bespelled to think the most dangerous places are the safest, and the safest places the most dangerous. Actually, cancel that ‘you might.’ You were. You bypassed the water six times!”
River? “You saw a river?” The kingdom of Elden was surrounded by the lake, a lake that connected its northern shore to Delfina. That had always been a point of contention for him while rotting inside his cell. So close to his goal, yet so far away. Now, he was glad.
“No,” Jane said. “I didn’t see. I heard the water.”
He hadn’t. The only landmark that had stood out to him was a dark, too dark, part of the forest that had made his skin crawl. Had he been alone, he would have braved that forest without hesitation. His mind had been centered upon Jane’s protection, however, and he’d opted to brave nothing. A mistake.
His swollen fingers intertwined with hers, squeezing. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“You were all scary alpha and in charge, and I didn’t want to, you know, poke at the bear. Plus, I was kind of distracted by the scenery and maybe lost in my thoughts. So, here’s what we’re going to do,” she went on. Now who was all alpha and in charge? “You’re going to lead us to the most dangerous place in this forest. And when you think you should turn left, you’re going to turn right. You’re going to do the opposite of everything you feel is correct.”
Smart, his Jane. And so damned arousing he doubted he would ever get enough of her.
He wanted to keep her. In his bed, his arms, his fangs buried in her neck, his cock buried between her legs. Even though he was destined to wed the… Another sharp lance tore through his mind, and he grunted.
“What?” Jane asked, concerned all over again. “Are you okay?”
Her back was a mess of welts, and she asked if he was okay. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and nodded. “You are well enough to travel?”
“Of course,” she said, as if there was no doubt in her mind.
“All right, then.”
Though his body protested, he trudged forward once again, leaving the cave behind. He followed Jane’s advice—orders—and did the opposite of what his “instincts” demanded, even plunging into a patch of thorny clinging vines guarding the darker part of the forest. He expected to be scratched, but the leaves merely caressed him, tickling.
There were no thorns, he realized. Even though he saw them, they were not there. Laila—or her healer—was more powerful than he’d ever suspected.
Male laughter cut through the night, springing from just ahead. Nicolai stopped, stiffened, and Jane bumped into him. Her breasts mashed into his back, and he had to press his lips together to halt his moan.
“Did you hear that?” he whispered.
“Hear what?”
That answered that. Still he did
not move forward, but stood there, waiting, listening. Jane’s nipples hardened, rasping over his flesh as she breathed. Her scent enveloped him. Must taste female…soon.
This physical desire was new to him. Oh, he’d had sex. And recently, too. Many times, but with Laila, or someone of her choosing as the princess watched and directed. Always chained to her bed, muzzled, her mouth and hands forcing him to respond to her, even though he hated her.
Sometimes, when even that failed to arouse him, she had used her witch magic to elicit an erection from him. Unlike her sister, she hadn’t needed someone else’s pain to spur her into orgasm. She had ridden him with abandon, while he had stared up at the face he despised, scowling, trying with every ounce of his strength to prevent her—and himself—from climaxing.
Sometimes she had, sometimes she hadn’t. Sometimes he had, sometimes he hadn’t. But each time, no matter the outcome, his hatred for them both had grown.
He did not remember ever being with another woman—besides Odette—though he was sure he’d had many lovers throughout the years. Because, as Laila had writhed atop him, he’d instinctively known what would bring her pleasure. Gliding his thumb along the bundle of nerves between her legs. Laving his tongue there. Kneading her breasts, plucking at her nipples. All the things he had refused to do, and now wanted to do to Jane.
He wanted to watch her expressive face as she reached her peak. Wanted to feel her inner walls clutch at him. Wanted to hear her cry out his name. Sweet heavens, even the thought delighted him.
“Seriously. What are we listening for?” Jane asked. The warmth of her breath trekked down his spine. “I don’t hear anything.”
Taste…
Distracted again, Nicki? The stray thought jolted him back to full awareness. Someone had once said that to him; he knew it. A woman. He wanted to know who, but now was not the time to try and access his memories. He had to remain alert.
“Come,” he said, leading Jane deeper into that dark part of the forest. More laughter echoed. Evil, promising retribution. Once again, he stilled. “Did you hear that?”
“What?”
More laughter, blending with yet another man’s. “That.”
“No. I hear the rush of water now, but that’s all.”
Damn it. The laughter must be another trick of Laila’s, meant to send him fleeing. Nicolai kicked back into gear. Five minutes passed, an eternity. He remained on guard, without a weapon—he should have grabbed a damned weapon—but willing to shield Jane with his body.
Another five minutes eked by. Then another. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could go on, but he felt like he should stop, so he did the opposite. He pushed onward. Another five minutes. Another.
“Wait. Nicolai. You have—”
Jane’s words cut off when Nicolai felt the cool rush of water against his feet, droplets splashing up his calf. Brows knitting in confusion, he paused and looked down. He hadn’t noticed the water, even though it had been directly in front of him.
The rocks were slippery as he backtracked to the edge. Dangerous, he thought. This place is dangerous. He should—
Stay. Finally.
“You did it,” Jane said. “You found the source.” She laughed, soft and carefree.
Without thought, Nicolai found himself whipping around to catch a glimpse of her. Her expression was lit up, brighter than the sun on its best morning. Her plump pink lips were curved at the corners, inviting him to lick, to finally taste. To devour. The hem of her robe was wet and plastered to her ankles.
She was safe. He could have her. Yes?
His chest constricted, and his stomach quivered. He reached out. A touch, until she healed, he’d allow himself only a touch. Except, his knees gave out just before contact and he fell into the water. His chin resting on his sternum, he breathed quickly and shallowly, trying to fill his lungs but failing.
His energy was draining, absolute fatigue taking its place.
“Oh, no, you don’t. Not there. You’ll drown.” Jane latched onto his arm and managed to drag him to the shore.
Once there, he just kind of fell the rest of the way, crashing into a mossy embankment. He tried to rise, but couldn’t find the strength. He needed to forage for food. Jane must be starving. He needed to build a shelter. The bugs would eat his woman alive. He needed to stand guard. She must not be hurt.
“Relax,” she said.
“Protect,” he murmured.
“Yes, I’ll protect you.” Gentle hands smoothed over his brow,
“No, I…” Oblivion claimed him before he could utter another word.
NICOLAI…
The deep male voice that called to him was familiar. Always in his dreams, when his defenses were weakened, but it was stronger now than ever before. And…beloved?
Nicolai…time…save…
In the back of his mind, he heard the tick, tick, tick of a clock.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
An image flashed in his mind. Not of the speaker, but of huge, grotesque monsters crawling toward him. Each had eight legs, with sharp, deadly points. They were black and hairy, their eyes big and beady, their tails pointed and curling toward him. They were staring him down, as if he were a tasty snack. Bile rose in his throat, but he pressed on, ignoring them.
“Where are you? What can I do?”
Nicolai…brother…heal yourself, and come. Time…save…
Brother? Nicolai tried to picture a brother. Nothing. He could not picture his mother, either. Nor his father. Even in his dreams, pain exploded through his head, shutting down his memories.
Tick, tick, tick.
Kill! an equally familiar male voice suddenly boomed. Deeper, harder.
Damn it. He had to find out who was speaking to him. Had to know. Had to, had to, had to. Life—and death—rested on his shoulders.
As he considered their identities, he thrashed, his hand connecting with something solid and warm.
He heard a gasp. For some reason, the female’s pain only increased his agitation. Must protect…
“Everything’s fine. You don’t have to worry,” she said, soothing him. “I’m here. You’re safe now.”
Jane, he thought, stilling. His Jane. Such a sweet voice, such a pretty face. Such a commanding personality, worthy of a queen. She was nearby.
Heal yourself…time…save…
Yes, he thought. With Jane nearby, he could do anything. Heal himself, and even replenish the store of power he’d burned through. He relaxed, willingly sinking back into oblivion. This time, he had a purpose.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JANE SPENT TWO DAYS gathering supplies and making weapons. She never strayed far from the unconscious Nicolai, just in case he needed her or they had unexpected visitors, so those supplies were limited. However, she managed to find fruits and nuts to eat, as well as small, thin twigs and mint leaves. Those, she’d turned into surprisingly efficient toothbrushes, which she used liberally on both of them.
Because they were near a stream, bathing her patient was easy. In fact, there’d probably never been two cleaner people trapped in the wilderness. Nicolai was no longer oiled, his skin was scrubbed to a healthy pink shine, and yet, the scent of sandalwood was stronger than ever. Every time she breathed him in, she tingled, her blood heating, her mouth watering.
It hadn’t helped that in bathing him, she’d had to run her hands all over him. As dirty as he’d been—cough, cough—she’d had to bathe him a lot. Those muscles…so hard, thickly roped and laced with sinew. That trail of hair from his navel to his penis…always tempting her to wickedness.
And God, she was shame spiraling.
Nicolai might desire her, but he didn’t need another woman lusting after him while he was helpless. What’s more, he didn’t need another grabby woman touching him without permission, and already Jane had pushed the boundaries of his trust by bathing him (so many times).
Hands off from now on, she decided. And one day, she’d apologize for her behavior. Maybe.
She wasn’t sure she would sound sincere. Despite his past, she’d liked touching him. Bad Jane. But, well, he’d seemed to like being touched by her. He tossed and turned intermittently, only calming when she was within reach.
Sometimes he questioned a man who needed his help, sometimes he cursed Laila for the vile things she’d done to him, and sometimes he fought ugly monsters, his arms and legs flailing. After the latter two, he always vowed retribution. Painful, slow retribution.
Something he was fully capable of delivering now. The swelling in his wrists and ankles was gone, his thumbs having snapped back into place, his feet having realigned right before her eyes. Even the abrasions on his skin were gone. It was quite an amazing process to witness.
The vampires she had studied had healed quickly, as well, but not that quickly. Nor had they slept this long in a single stretch. She worried about him.
Did he need blood? He’d had so much at the palace, and overfeeding could cause as much damage as starvation. Perhaps more so, because overfeeding caused an insatiable need for more, more, more. Nothing else mattered ever again, and dead body after dead body was left in the wake.
She shouldn’t know that. She’d almost given herself and her knowledge away with the whole “bursting into flames” thing. And while she hated herself for having experimented on his brethren, she wished she’d done more, knew more. Anything to help Nicolai right now.
Jane sighed. She’d give him another day. And then what? she wondered.
She would have to construct some kind of hamper and drag him through the forest and into a town, find a healer and get him checked out. If there was a town other than Delfina nearby.
The problem—besides her lack of strength and direction—was her face. Her magical face. As Odette, she simply couldn’t lose herself in a crowd, as proven by the reaction of the people outside the palace. Word of her arrival might travel to Laila. Someone might attempt to capture Nicolai.
That someone would have to die by Jane’s hand, and she wasn’t quite ready to become a killer.
Another sigh slipped from her, this one weary. As a golden moon settled into a black velvet sky, she placed her handmade weapons—twigs sharpened on rocks until becoming daggers and spears—beside Nicolai. Then she lay next to him.