Lord of the Vampires and The Darkest Angel and The Amazon's Curse and The Darkest Prison

by Gena Showalter

  Before his last escape attempt, they’d kept him nourished by allowing him three small cups of blood a day. Who had donated the blood, he didn’t know. Didn’t care. He didn’t like to take from a living source, only from those he’d slain. So he’d pretended the blood came from one of his victims.

  “Let’s think this through, then. Perhaps there is another way. Did you try manipulating his rod?”

  “Of course. He’s not my first slave, you know.”

  “Well, give him blood, then…bind his mouth. Yes, that might work. That way, he’ll be strong enough to bed but unable to nibble on you.”

  “Oh, excellent idea! Grab a goblet.” The pink-haired woman—he hadn’t cared to remember her name—palmed one of her daggers, sliced a groove in her wrist and held the wound over the offered cup.

  His mouth watered at the sight and smell of that crimson nectar; his fangs elongated. She was not dead, he couldn’t pretend otherwise, but he would still take from her. Sacrifices must be made in times of adversity.

  She approached him and held the cup to his lips. Thankfully, her skin did not brush his. “Drink.”

  As though in a trance, he obeyed, swallowing three precious mouthfuls. Instantly, warmth spread through him, followed on its heels by strength. So good…

  “It’s working. His color is returning.” The goblet was removed from his mouth, and he found his gaze locked with that of his captor. She was pretty, if he cared for such things. He didn’t. He only cared that she had pink hair rather than black, brown eyes rather than turquoise, and she did not smell like Nola. Like sea and storms and flowers.

  There was a pause, then a purr of agreement. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

  “Don’t forget he’s mine,” was the snapped reply.

  “Well, his cock is still flaccid, so you won’t be claiming him any time soon,” the other Amazon lashed back.

  As the blood continued to work through him, the lethargy that had plagued him all these many days dissolved, leaving energy in his muscles, a sizzle in his bones. Escape, he thought, a growl working its way past his throat.

  Both Amazons jumped away from him with a yelp.

  “Hurry! Let’s bind his mouth.”

  “Don’t touch me!” Growls intensifying, Zane jerked at the chains circling his wrists and ankles. He hissed and snapped, kicking as much as he was able as the Amazons maneuvered around him. “No touching! Do you hear me? I’ll kill you.”

  Metal cut past his flesh, hitting those sizzling bones. Still he fought, imagining his blade slicing through both of these women. More blood would spill. He would lap it up. Strengthen even more. He would tear through their camp. No mercy.

  Suddenly a golden ray of light spilled inside the tent, and he would have sworn he caught a glimpse of…no, surely not. Couldn’t be. Yet…there she was. His Nola.

  “No—” He stilled, his heart slamming against his ribs. Couldn’t be, he thought again. Unless…was she a hallucination? He’d had them before, yet they never ceased to shock him.

  His captor moved, reaching for his neck, blocking the vision.

  “Out of my way!” he shouted, bumping his hip against hers and sending her toppling to her face. He’d imagined Nola before, there in the battle tent. Sadly, that glimpse had lasted only a few heart-stopping seconds. How long would this one last?

  Had his captor already dispelled it?

  If she had…

  No. There Nola was again, a shimmering outline of long black hair, a glow of turquoise eyes. She was trying—ineffectually—to tug his captor away from him. He lost his breath. So lovely. His shaft hardened quickly and painfully. Nola. His sweetest tormentor.

  Then the vision wavered, the air dabbled…gone. She was gone.

  He wanted to scream and hurt and maim. To kill and be killed. The desire came too late, though, his stunned immobility costing him. The Amazon was able to leap to her feet and easily hook a thick strap of material around his useless mouth.

  “Finally.” Sighing with satisfaction, she leaned away from him, crouching on her haunches and smiling smugly. “And just as I suspected, your rod is—” Her words halted and her smile faded as his cock withered before her eyes. “But…you were…why…”

  He had only imagined Nola; he knew that, but he couldn’t stop his gaze from searching for another glimpse of her. To his dismay, he saw only furs, carved furniture and weapons.

  Even as his captor and her friend attempted to arouse him once more, stripping for him, caressing him, he did not stop searching.

  Finally, exasperated with him, the Amazons dressed and stormed from the tent, leaving him alone with his insanity.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AS MANY TIMES AS NOLA had been chained and used in her life, she knew the humiliation, frustration and helplessness Zane was now feeling. He must want to kill Amelia, his new owner. She did.

  Hurting another Amazon went against every instinct Nola possessed, every rule she’d ever been taught—after she’d escaped her mother, that is—but she would have sliced the warrioress to pieces if she’d been able to grip a blade. Exactly as she’d done to her mother. Zane’s eyes had been so wild, his snarls so desperate. And she’d been unable to aid him, had only been able to watch in horror.

  “I will take his place,” she shouted to the ceiling, not knowing if the gods were listening. Or if they even cared. But she had to try. Zane didn’t deserve this. No one did. At least she had endured servitude before. She could do so again. And were she to actually take Zane’s place, the women wouldn’t rape her, of course, but they would work her and beat her. Neither of which would break her. Because she would know she had helped her man.

  “Please,” she shouted. “Switch us!”

  No response. But suddenly air was sucked through Zane’s nostrils, and his body jerked. Then he began struggling against his bonds again. Her attention whipped to him. He was staring directly at her, his dark gaze boring into her.

  “Zane,” she said, rushing to his side and kneeling. “Shh, now. Shh. You’ll only injure your wrists and ankles further.” Already he was bleeding, losing the blood he’d just been given.

  He tracked her every movement.

  Could he…no. Not possible. No matter how many times she’d wished otherwise, she’d remained as un-noticeable as the air he breathed. Besides, if he knew she was here, he would be fighting her as he’d fought Amelia. Perhaps even more violently. She had not only rebuked his advances, she had tried to hurt him, too. Had called him vile names he had not deserved. All because she’d been too frightened of her feelings.

  I am not worthy of being an Amazon warrioress.

  Frantic, Zane rubbed his jaw against his shoulder until the material fell away from his mouth. “Nola,” he rasped. “Nola, Nola, Nola. You are here.” He could see her. Oh, gods. Oh, gods! Could she touch him? Her arm shook as she reached out, meaning to brush his hair from his face, but as always, her hand ghosted through him. She moaned in frustration.

  He laughed, the sound full of sweet satisfaction. “I’ve finally slipped over the edge of sanity and I don’t care.” He relaxed against the blankets spread out beneath him. “My Nola, here to comfort me. As beautiful as ever.”

  His Nola? A shiver moved through her. Oh, if only… “You aren’t imagining me, Zane. I’m truly here. I’ve been here since the day of your arrival.”

  Zane didn’t seem to hear her. His gaze was too busy drinking her in. “Of course I would imagine you like this, soft and lush, but still not mine to possess.”

  “Listen to me. The gods cursed me, as they cursed you, only I am not to be seen, heard or felt.” Until now. Why, why, why could she now be seen and heard but still not felt?

  Finally, her words seemed to take root. His eyelids narrowed and his lips pulled tight against his teeth, revealing the tips of those deadly fangs. “How is that possible?”

  “Need I remind you of the gods’ powers?”

  His cheeks flushed. “How can I see you now, then?” he asked
, mirroring her thoughts. “What has changed?”

  “I wish I knew,” she said on a sigh. Would others be able to see her, as well?

  He laughed without humor. “So. Another curse is to be heaped upon me. To see, but never to touch the only one I desire.” He turned his head from her, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her another second.

  That was the treatment she’d expected from him, but it still hurt. You deserve it. Take it like a warrior.

  At least he no longer thought himself crazy.

  “You…still wish to touch me?”

  A pause, heavy, laden with tension. “Why aren’t you with Brand?” he demanded rather than answer her.

  Brand, the dragon shape-shifter who had been cursed right alongside them. “I don’t…” What? She liked Brand, but she wasn’t concerned with his treatment. He had not fought his captivity like Zane. He had embraced the thought of a temporary Amazon owner.

  Other than Lily, that is. Lily had been too young for him, and he’d been nothing more than a maid for her. Since she’d released him into the tender care of the other Amazons, though, he’d looked nothing but content.

  But even if he had not been enjoying himself, Nola still would have chosen to watch over Zane. His strength and determination, and even his wildness, drew her. Maybe because that wildness had never truly extended to her. Even when she’d stabbed both of his shoulders with spears, he had not attempted to hurt her. He had cried out for her, wanting to be with her.

  I hate myself for rejecting him.

  “Why haven’t you used your…gift to help you escape?” she asked, ignoring his question as he’d ignored hers. Much as this man had to hate her, despite the desire he’d professed—or had she imagined that?—she wasn’t ready to voice her softer feelings. Even she didn’t understand her change from tormentor to tormented. And what if he were to reject her? Her already bruised and battered heart would not survive.

  His cheeks heated in embarrassment, but still he did not face her.

  He’d once used that gift on her. Had slipped inside her dreams and showed her how good it would be between them. How he would kiss and taste every inch of her body, enjoy her, help her enjoy him.

  “You can show the Amazons the destruction you will unleash if they fail to release you.”

  “The gods stripped me of the ability when they sent me here,” he finally admitted. “I can no longer enter dreams. Or create nightmares. They also stripped me of my ability to transport myself to other locations with only a thought.”

  Damn them! “There has to be a way to free you. I wish I could leave camp and visit your king. Word has spread through Atlantis that he is wed now to my sister, Delilah. They would help you, I know it. And maybe, like you, they would be able to see and hear me. But I am bound to this camp, as surely as if I were shackled. I cannot leave its boundaries.”

  Or perhaps she could, now that part of her curse seemed to be lifted. She wanted to check, but couldn’t force herself to move away.

  Zane shifted even further away from her, his chains rattling. It was another stark reminder of their doomed circumstances. “Why would you help me?”

  “Because I—” She peered down at her hands. Her fingers were twined together and twisting the leather of her skirt. They wanted to be on Zane’s body, learning his every nuance. What would make him gasp in pleasure? What would make him moan? “I owe you. I hurt you, and I’m sorry for that. Sorrier than I can ever express. I want—”

  “Enough,” he growled, cutting her off. “I don’t want your apology. I never did.”

  Rejection. Even though she had not professed her new feelings. As she’d suspected, her heart stopped. Literally stopped. Tears burned her eyes. She had not cried in years. Not since she was a little girl, huddled in bed, dreading the monsters who would visit her.

  “I’ve always wanted you…your body,” he added in a croak. “Still do.”

  “Wh-what?”

  “I want you.”

  Shocking. Need trembled through her. Welcome need. Beloved need. “Yes.” Yes. “I would rather give myself to you than give the apology, for I want you, too.” There. Admission. Not as scary as she had thought. Freeing, actually. “But you can’t touch me, and I cannot touch you. How…” Hated need, she thought next. A craving that could never be satisfied.

  “We will figure it out.” Huskily said, softening expression.

  How? she wanted to ask again, but didn’t. No telling when Amelia would return. Their privacy was limited, and she did not want to spend it grasping for solutions they would never find.

  Apparently, Zane did not either.

  “Climb on top of me,” he beseeched. “I want to see you there. Want to imagine.”

  To her surprise, she obeyed without hesitation, eager, straddling his waist. His eyes closed, and he arched up. Imagine, he’d said. He was imagining sinking inside her.

  Yes, she thought. Yes. She would like that. Wanted that. She imagined his hard shaft entering inch by inch and moaned. A few times, the act had felt pleasurable rather than painful, but those times had left her wallowing in shame. How could she have liked being bedded by those disgusting males, even for a moment?

  This time, however, there was no shame. Only acceptance. More.

  “Zane, I—”

  “Feel good?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad. Would you like me to—”

  The entrance to the tent flapped, and Amelia strode inside. “Well, vampire. I have decided—” Her eyes widened, and she stopped. “Nola? What are you doing here?”

  Nola jumped up as though burned. She wanted to scream in frustration, but held her tongue. One question had been answered, at least. Others could see her. “Hello, Amelia.” Did she sound as breathless to the warrioress as she did to herself?

  “We thought you were dead.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  Amelia’s dark gaze swung to Zane, then back to Nola. “Either way, you will move away from my slave. If you wanted him for yourself, you should have been brave enough to return and fight for him.”

  “I do want him for myself.”

  “Too late.”

  No. It wasn’t. She refused to believe that.

  “Nola,” Zane said, and there was a warning in his tone.

  A warning of what? Nola didn’t face him, but squared her shoulders and forced her expression to harden. “Well, I am here now. Amelia, I challenge you for the vampire.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “HURRY! SHE’LL RETURN any moment, and she’ll have others with her. Perhaps the entire army.”

  Zane watched as Nola tried and failed to jerk the head of his chains from the iron pole they were attached to, a pole that was anchored deep in the earth. As before, her fingers merely passed through the object.

  His shock had yet to diminish. Nola was here; Nola wanted him; Nola thought to help him. After her announcement—I challenge you for the vampire—his captor had stormed out of the tent with every intention of speaking to the Amazon queen. And having Nola imprisoned.

  No. He would not allow that.

  She was his.

  Earlier when she’d apologized to him, it had not been remorse thickening her voice. It had been desire. Then she’d climbed on top of him without any uncertainty, had moaned when he’d arched into her. He hadn’t been able to feel her, but oh, just the thought of doing so had been enough for him. He’d never craved a female more.

  “How do you propose to fight her?” he demanded. “You cannot hurt her, and she cannot hurt you.” Thank the gods. He would rather endure an eternity of slavery than watch this woman bleed.

  “I didn’t want to fight her. Well, I did, do, but know I can’t. I just wanted time. And why are you just lying there?” She peered down at him, hands on her hips, dark hair streaming wildly around her delicate face. “Fight free!”

  So lovely. Everything he’d craved these many months of his captivity—Nola, freedom, a chance to be together—was now being of
fered to him. No longer did he feel cursed. Never had he been so blessed.

  He couldn’t feel her? So what. Being with her was more important.

  “You will come with me? If I escape?” he asked.

  “If I can, yes. I want that more than anything,” she added in a fierce whisper.

  Again, there was no uncertainty. There was even a flicker of hope in her magnificent eyes. She truly did not hate him.

  What had brought about this change in her?

  Would she change her mind if she knew of his past?

  Demon whore.

  He squeezed his eyes closed, wishing once again that he could cover his ears.

  “Zane, darling. What’s wrong?”

  Don’t tell her. Don’t ever tell her. “Nothing.” She would run from him as Cassandra had.

  “You’re hurting,” Nola said. She tapped on his chest, just above his heart. “Here. Tell me why.”

  “I will escape,” he said instead. “You will come with me.”

  He was suddenly fueled with a fervor he had never experienced before. He wanted this. Would have this. Just as…soon as…he broke…free. For what seemed an eternity, he pulled hard at his wrists and ankles, straining so forcefully his bones eventually gave way.

  Out came both his ankles; out came both his wrists. The pain of it nearly bowled him over as he sat up, then stood to trembling legs. He didn’t care about the pain, though. He was free at last.

  Together. They could be together.

  “I hear them,” Nola gasped. “Come on.” She made to grab him, but her hand misted through his body. “Damn this!”

  There was no sensation, no chill, but the knowledge that she had tried to touch him caused him to shiver rather than shudder. From the very first, it had been that way. Others he ran from. Others he abhorred. Her, he only yearned for more of. Why? he wondered again.

  “This way.” She raced to the far end of the tent. “Raise the flap.”

  He lumbered to her, stumbling constantly, and did as commanded. All the while, his battered body screamed in agony, black winking over his vision, stomach threatening to heave. Vampires were fast healers, but he’d been without blood too long, the few sips he’d had earlier already used up.