Her Dark Soul

by Kim Knox

  “Wards are human, ones bound to protect an object of importance. Kill them and the treasure remains sealed forever.” He shrugged. “The most difficult ward to cultivate—and the strongest—is the virgin ward.” He lifted his cup. “I salute the Temple of Fausta. It appears to have an efficient system in place.”

  Ash blinked, the cup still at her lips. Every one of the women she’d grown up with, the small girls and babies she’d played with, every one of them was little more than a means to an end. She’d spent her days being so grateful to the goddess and her priests for rescuing her from the Street of Cries. She willed herself not to bang her cup back on the table. “They used all of us.”

  Marek shrugged and wiped his last hunk of bread through the smear of honey remaining on the platter. “Welcome to Bukhara.”

  “This is not funny!”

  He paused and looked up, his eyes dark, stern. “No, it isn’t. I was hired for a job and I’ve been forced into taking in a ward by the emperor. As split as his power is, I have to obey him. As I would the Senior Prime of my Order.” His head tilted and his dark smile, the one that warmed her flesh, curved across his mouth. “Though you bring unexpected benefits.”

  Ash felt the blush rise under her cheeks. “About that.” She straightened, embarrassment gripping her…but he had offered her a way out. She planned to exploit it. “If I’m to guard this box, you can’t…” She waved her hand, not wanting to give a name to the riot of desire he flashed through her body. “You can’t use me. I must remain untouched. Your oath—”

  Marek laughed. “Oh, I can fuck a virgin ward, Ash. Take you every way I could possibly want. My oath is for the treasure, not the other guardians. The problem is yours. That wild rush you get, the one that smashed into me? That was your defense, your protection of the box and your release. You can never find your own pleasure.”

  “That…you…” She couldn’t find the words to answer him. The idea of doing whatever he wanted with her had her blood hot and her heart pounding, but the knowledge that she would never find true pleasure, that she would always feed him with her magic dulled the rush. “So a virgin ward is unbreachable?” she murmured.

  “It takes ancient magic to break something as powerful as you, Ash.” He stared around his small kitchen. “And not even ancient magic can fight its way through into this house.”

  Ash stared at the few remains of food on her plate, her appetite gone. She hated and craved Marek. It made no sense, and by the goddess, she was simply dead tired. She pushed her stool away from the table and stood. Ash found it hard to look him in the eye. Rani was wrong. She would be Marek’s whore. “As you’ve just eaten, you’re unlikely to want to fuck me now. Where can I sleep?”

  He was silent and she forced herself to meet his gaze. She couldn’t read him, but that could be the heavy ache of tiredness suddenly gripping her. Marek pointed through the open arch. “The stairs to the upper floor are across the garden. Take the smallest room.”

  “Thank you.” She murmured the courtesy out of habit and left the kitchen. A bed, a few hours of dreamless sleep and after that maybe she would be able to think more clearly. Though her circumstances would not have changed. Marek planned to use her however he wished. Ash hated that her body grew warm at the thought.

  The wooden stairs led to a balcony that overlooked the garden below. Ash opened several doors until she found the smallest of the bedrooms. The single, small window was shuttered against the light and a low bunk stretched out under it. Ash closed the door, sinking the room into further darkness, pulled off her sandals and curled up under the thin blankets. The noise of the outside world, of the clatter of workmen, the cries and laughter of children, and somewhere below she heard Marek stacking dishes. All the sounds pressed over her. Strange and—if she weren’t tired and full of food—disturbing. Ash shifted to create a comfortable dip in the soft rushes, closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

  But she awoke with a start. She could hear breathing in the room with her. Her fingers fumbled for the latch on the shutters and tugged one of them free. Morning sunlight slanted into the room, cutting across the end of her bed and hitting the man standing there.

  Ash let out a wild yelp and tried to scramble from the twisted covers.

  “I’m not here to hurt you, Ash.”

  Something about his voice seemed vaguely familiar, a smooth deepness that eased under her skin and stopped her struggles with the trapping blankets. Ash fought to focus on him. She couldn’t know him. The only men she knew were the few slaves she had seen working in the priests’ market garden and Marek. Her stranger was dark like Marek and held that man’s lean, flawless male beauty.

  A smile curved his mouth and her heart squeezed, the first flush of interest running hot through her body. Damn it, did she have no shame?

  Her stranger’s smile deepened. “You know, this isn’t quiet real.” He looked over the low ceiling before returning his dark gaze to her. “You’re asleep, Ash. So really there’s no need for shame.”

  Heat bloomed in her chest. “How did you…?”

  “This is a dream. Your thoughts weave around you in strings of soft light…and I can see them as clearly as the rise and fall of your breasts.”

  Ash yanked the blanket up over her shift, her face flaming. She closed her eyes. “I want to wake up. I need to wake up.” She said the words out loud, clear, sharp. Ash opened her eyes expecting to find darkness and her sudden madness over…but the man simply smiled at her.

  “It’s not that simple.”

  He moved around the edge of the bed and Ash kept her attention fixed on him. He flicked open the first button of his shirt. Her breath dried and her breasts tightened. And damn, what had the priests done to her to make her so eager?

  He laughed, something rich, warm and laced with wickedness. “Now, Ash.” He flicked another button on his linen shirt and she couldn’t look away from the hint of brown flesh he revealed. “The priests of Fausta gave you a gift. Something beautiful. Something to be shared.”

  He tugged the shirt over his head and dropped it beside the bed. Sunlight edged the lean hardness of his chest and the memory of Marek burned through her.

  “Him?” he asked.

  He tugged at the belt that held his breeches and Ash’s heart lodged in her throat. She tore her gaze away, her eyes fixed on the bloodless grip she had on the blanket. Her heart beat hard. He said it was a dream, but she couldn’t believe it, not deep down…and the thought of his bare body panicked her.

  “He is crude,” he murmured. His breeches puddled at his bared feet. “No finesse. His only desire is to use you.”

  “Who are you?” She kept her gaze on his feet, torn between keeping her eyes exactly there, or letting them roam up the muscled length of his calves, his thighs and stare openly at his nakedness. It’s a dream. That wicked little whisper burned through her thoughts. It is…

  “My name is Lucas.”

  His name warmed through her and the knowledge that she dwelt in the safety of a dream gave her courage. Her gaze skirted up his legs, heat burning in her face and she stared at his erect cock. Ash had no memory of ever seeing one, but she must have to be imagining Lucas there with her. Her gaze snapped up to his face and her blush deepened. “How are you here?”

  “Ash, questions are dull.”

  Lucas eased her back onto the bed and she let him. His warm fingers brushed over hers, easing her tight grip on her blankets. He pulled the cover free and that joined his clothes on the floor. His brief, wicked smile had her heart thudding. Leaning over her, he teased a finger over her collarbone and traced a path to the peak of her nipple. She gasped, her hips twisting involuntarily. What kind of dream was this?

  “He offered you choices…”

  Ash blinked. Was that it? Was she acting out what Marek had offered her, what her body craved? Feeling wanton, she tugged her shift up over her thighs. The sharp gleam in Lucas’ eyes tightened her flesh and gave her the courage to pull the material higher
up over her hips and bare herself to him.

  “More?” The heat in his voice echoed in her blood, his gaze fixed on the juncture of her thighs. He wet his lips. “Let me see all of you.”

  Her heart in her throat, Ash pulled her shift over her head and lay naked before him. Heat beat in her face and the tight ache low in her belly increased…but still she looked at him, certain of what she wanted. “I want your mouth on me.”

  Lucas sucked in a quick breath and his cock twitched. “All over?” He paused. “May I bury my face between your thighs and lick and eat you?”

  The fire of need pounded through her. She could only nod, her body already trembling and she almost cried out at the first brush of his mouth against her breast. Her spine arched into him and Lucas’ low laughter shot liquid heat deep into her belly. He straddled her, the warmth, the strength of his body, the press of his hard cock into her thigh driving fresh desire through her flesh.

  “You taste…” His murmur died away and his tongue teased the underside of her breast, her ribs, the curve of her belly. “Never, never have I tasted anyone like you. Sweet.” He nibbled low across her belly and she gasped. “Succulent. So…”

  His lips brushed her mound and her heart stopped. He was so close to where she ached for him, his breath hot against her skin. His fingers eased over her thighs, parting her before him. Yes, she wanted this. She wanted his mouth, his tongue on her as Marek had described, curling, teasing her. Fucking her.

  She felt his grin against her and his fingers dug into the firm flesh of her thighs, pinning her to the bed. “I will give you all those things. I promise.” He paused and Ash met his dark gaze. Golden fire lurked in him and the promise of it, the promise of wild and wicked pleasure called to something deep and old in her. “And more. I will give you your every desire, if that is what you wish.”

  The gleam in his eyes, the fire, panicked her. This was wrong. Lucas, the dream, was wrong…but then his tongue curled against her and she was lost. He licked through her folds, teasing, finding a spot that almost had her bucking off the bed. His hard hands let her down and the thought of his control, of him taking her—

  His low, satisfied growl rippled through her flesh and his tongue pushed harder, meeting a resistance that had her aching, desperate for him to break.

  “Fuck me.” She muttered the words under her breath and tangled her fingers in Lucas’ hair, beyond caring that he, that what she was doing was wrong. He had to take her, bury his tongue inside her and make her scream.

  “Yes…” The word was raw and harsh against her damp flesh. Her blood pounded. Already, the tight heat low in her belly pulsed, thickened and she shook, her body hardly her own. He had to do what he promised, bury his tongue inside, so deep and fast, fucking her until… “First my tongue then my cock. Your pussy and your ass. You’ll be so thoroughly and deliciously breached—”

  “Yes.” Ash tried to arch against him, against the wickedness of his words, the fire in her body almost impossible to deny. “Yes, I—”

  “Ashsara!”

  Darkness broke over her and hard hands yanked her from her bed. Marek loomed over her, breathing hard, the light from the open doorway hugging him. “What are you doing?”

  Confused, her body on fire, the need for her to find another man to finish what Lucas had started made her cover Marek’s mouth, stroke her tongue over his. His taste, its hot sweetness scorched through her. She wanted him. Now. Hard. Fast. She needed…

  Marek crushed her body hard to his and deepened their kiss, his groan tearing through her flesh. She clutched at his hair, grinding her hips against the hardness of his erection. Her own groan mixing with his as his hand tugged at her shift, finding the bare skin beneath. She could imagine him naked like Lucas—

  Light danced behind her eyes…and then Marek was grunting, his arms tight around her body as her magic smashed into him in a wild rush.

  Ash pulled her mouth from his and her head dropped to his shoulder. Some of her ache was gone, but not enough and a sourness twisted her gut. She hated this. Hated it. Marek held her up, his breathing harsh and hot against her ear.

  “Damn you…” she murmured.

  “Damn us both,” he said.

  Chapter Three

  Marek eased his arms free and she flopped to her rush mattress. “You were dreaming.” He ran his fingers through his tangled hair. “Hell, you were coming.”

  “So, I was dreaming?” Ash pulled at the shift, straightening it over her knees, desperate to occupy herself with anything else other than him being in her room. She didn’t want to share her short time with Lucas. He was forbidden, she felt it deep within her, but he had nothing to do with Marek. “Am I not allowed to dream now?”

  “Stop behaving like a child.” Marek paced the room. “You don’t just have these sorts of dreams, Ash. It was obviously an attack on what you are.” He paused and turned to face her, his features heavy with shadow. “Was it a man or a shade?”

  A shade? What sort of question was that? “Is that possible?”

  Marek rubbed at his jaw. “So a man—”

  “I didn’t have a dream! You charged into this room—”

  “And got the full lash of your release. I noticed.”

  “You didn’t object.”

  Marek gave a low laugh that skittered down her spine and her birthmark tingled. “I’m a custodian. Born this way, as was my mother. My power is within me, grows from my body. My strength feeds it. And you? You’re a banquet. And who would turn that down?” His expression sobered. “This isn’t a game. If something or someone breaks the power you have, then the treasure you protect is vulnerable.”

  “And if I don’t care?”

  “Your only value to me and to the temple is as a ward. With your power broken…” He let the words fade and his dark gaze pinned her. Marek obviously had no qualms about discarding her when she was of no further use to him. “The man who visited you will not protect you, feed and clothe you, give you a bed. A moment’s pleasure.” His smile chilled her. “And you end up living your life as a lupa outside the theaters, selling your body for a brass para.”

  Anger and fear twisted her gut. “You’re a…” None of the curses she knew seemed strong enough to fling at him.

  “A shit?” He sat down on the bunk beside her and she shifted away from him. “This isn’t a game. Anyone who can command the ancient magics obviously has great power of their own.”

  She still wanted to swear at him, curse him out, but reluctantly sense prodded at her. He was right and she—and what they had transformed her into—was simply a small piece in a much larger scheme. “What’s in the box?”

  “I don’t know.” He blew out a hot breath and muttered soft, strange words. Ash guessed that he had found his perfect curse words. “My role as custodian forbids it. My oath holds and binds me.” He pinched at the bridge of his nose. “All right, the first thing we have to deal with is the man invading your dreams.”

  “And how do you do that?”

  Marek stood and held out his hand to her. He waited for her to take it and urged her to her feet. “My room,” he said, leading her out onto the landing to the largest of the bedrooms that overlooked the garden. Sunlight cut across the wooden floor from open shutters and a wide bed half-filled the room. Marek pushed the door shut. “I’ve not done this for a long time.”

  Ash sucked in a quiet breath, her imagination leaping to strange places, places that heated her skin and she curled her fingers into her palm. “Done what?”

  “I have a talent.” He undid the buttons on his shirt and Ash’s heart squeezed. With the sunlight cutting across the room it—he—was too much like the man who had just slipped into her dream. “With enough strength, I can ease into your mind. Not a normal custodian skill.”

  “You’re looking for him?”

  “I have to know my enemy.” He dropped his shirt over the back of a wide wooden chair and sat on it to remove his boots.

  Ash’s gaze narrowed o
n him. “And you’re taking off your clothes because…?”

  He looked up and the dark grin he gave her jumped her pulse. “It has to be skin to skin.”

  “Yet you haven’t done this for a while?” A brief laugh escaped her. “Surely, you wouldn’t deny yourself the pleasure?”

  He stood, his feet bare, and sunlight gilded his torso. He looked so much like Lucas, holding a dark beauty that made her heart pound. He loosened his belt and his breeches dropped down over hips. “Take your clothes off.”

  She took a step back and her calf hit the edge of the mattress. Ash bit her lip. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll only hold you.” His soft laughter followed the words. “And that’s not something I often say.” Marek’s breeches joined his shirt over the back of the chair and he looked to her expectantly. “You need to undress.”

  Ash closed her eyes against seeing his naked body. With Lucas, it had been wanted, a part of the pleasure, a part of the anticipation, but Marek’s nakedness and his command just brought embarrassment. She made quick work of tugging the thin material over her head and tried to cover herself with her hands. Marek didn’t seem to notice.

  “Lie on the bed.”

  With her eyes still shut, Ash fumbled her way onto the wide bed, her face turned to the wall. She sucked in a breath as Marek pressed his body to her back, the alien heat of his skin rippling a quick shiver under her own. His thigh pushed between her legs, pressing against her damp sex, and his right hand took possession of her breast. His hard cock teased her backside and she fought not to rock back against him.

  His warm breath brushed her ear. “So responsive,” he murmured and his thumb circled her nipple, the pleasure of it rushing down her body and her thighs tightened involuntarily around his strong thigh. “Every touch enflames you, doesn’t it?”

  “Have you started?”

  Marek laughed and shifted his hips. His cock slid between her cheeks and Ash jerked. “Simply getting comfortable.” He eased his left arm under her and his hand rested on her mound, his fingers drawing idle circles against her skin.