Destroyed by Onyx (A Dance with Destiny Book 4)

by JK Ensley

  Gráda had been at her side, mesmerized by her fluid, lethal thrusts, wholly enchanted by her singular, unwavering focus. So captivated was he by the fierce look on her angelic face as she landed the killing blows, he almost didn’t notice the soundless screaming faces flying through the air, removed from their temporal bodies—grotesque clouds across a cinnabar sky.

  When he had downed his second enemy, he turned to her. She was gone. His brothers arrived in a wave of swords, quickly slaying the remaining ten.

  Finnean grabbed Gráda’s cloak. “Where is she?” Spittle pooled in the corners of his mouth, spraying his friend as he spoke.

  “I lost her during the battle. She was slicing through them with ease, faster than I could manage.” He was panting, gasping for breath. “Hers was the most exquisite dance of death I have ever seen. I watched her lay low her sixth. Then, only just before you arrived, I lost sight of her.”

  Brian was the one who found the deep retreating tracks, accompanied by a faint trickle of blood.

  “They’ve taken her.” Brodder had tears in his tired eyes. “They have stolen my wee moon, snatched her right out of my hands.”

  “It appears to be just one,” Brian said as he studied the prints. “One set of prints, and deep at that. He carries her.”

  “And she’s wounded, by the look of it,” Eògan added.

  “Of course she’s wounded.” Finnean forced his words through clenched teeth. “Otherwise, he never could have taken her.”

  The determined King and his high generals tracked her captor, heading north from their home. The trail went cold and then died altogether when they reached the forest’s edge.

  “No more tracks. No more blood,” Luag mumbled.

  “Ready your troops,” Brodder demanded. “You know the men we slew this night. The scarlet ones, Drostan’s trained henchmen, devils the lot of them.” He turned a cold glare toward his trusted five. “We’ll attack before that witch’s whip has a chance to taste my daughter’s pale flesh.” He placed his large hand firmly upon Finnean’s shoulder. “There are no rules in this war, Brothers. Do whatever needs to be done. We do not fight for honor and glory, not this day. This day, we fight for love and life, Princess Gealach’s life. Spare none and show no mercy. All peace shall be removed from Val Hal until my beloved daughter, and this mighty warrior’s intended wife, is safe in our arms once more.”

  Chapter 15

  Ahriman

  (ARR-ee-mon)

  Valencia felt the familiar tremor in the air when the Angel entered her realm.

  “Now, why would a bloody old Angel feel the need to invade my space?” she fumed as she paced the length of the room and back. “Well, where the hell is it? Why has the Angel not shown itself to me? It’s only common courtesy, is it not? It feels my presence. I know it does. If it chooses to stay hidden from me, it must have ill intensions in mind.”

  Her time alone, away from her family and her purpose, had not gone well for the betraying she-Guardian. Solitude is the pathway to madness, and Valencia had been haphazardly skipping down it for many years now.

  The original intent was to hide from Apollyon until his temper returned to its normal boiling point. Never did she dream the Prince of Darkness would literally crack and start his own apocalypse. Alas, intent had given way to need and need to necessity. And necessity had forged a resolute acceptance of her current life. She was more witch than Guardian now, slowly forgetting her place in this universe.

  “We must all live with the choices we make,” she grumbled. “At least my sacrifice spared my dear brother an eternity of hell. An eternity bound to that dirty little whore, raising her spawn of the Underworld and letting them call him Daddy,” she hissed. “Yes. At least Varick is free now. It was all worth it.”

  With Drostan still absent and no word about the muted maiden, her nerves twitched from the idleness. She waited, not patiently, for another half hour before she determined her ethereal guest had no intentions of following the code. She determined to seek it out instead.

  Balancing on the balls of her feet, Valencia scanned the land from her window perch. There remained no sign of Drostan, his men, nor the maid. Spreading her mighty wings, she let the breeze lift her into the air, gliding her toward the trespassing angelic presence.

  She knew there was no way to hide from the all-seeing eyes she now sought. She didn’t even try. When the ethereal tremors in the air increased, she landed high atop the tallest tree, scoping out her visitor from afar.

  Her breath hitched when she caught her first glimpse of those giant sapphire wings.

  “How… no, why in the hell is that worthless excuse of a black soul strolling about here, casually walking through the forest of Val Hal? And just how in the holy hell was he allowed to leave his fiery realm? I thought he was…”

  Her words trailed off when she felt a dark presence near her. She was too late.

  “The people of darkness are waiting for you, dearest Valencia, waiting to take you to be with them. They desire you terribly. I personally asked to be the sole provider of your exquisite torment. Will you stay eternally wet for me, my love?”

  The cold voice whispering in her ear sent a painful shot of ice ripping through her soul. She tried to escape, but Ahriman held her firmly in his grasp.

  “Our dark Prince had me comb every layer looking for you.” His cold laugh was demonic, skin tingling. “Did you set about to play a game with hell, little Guardian? I don’t believe you thought it through, now, did you? You make a move then he makes a move. Is that not how a game is played? Did you expect to taunt hell and remain unsinged by the fire?” He ran his cold fingers up her trembling back. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, little Angel wanna-be. You jumped in over your head. You knew the kind of creatures you played with. Yet you choose to play, anyway. Made the first move, no less. Well… now he wishes to tear you into tiny little pieces, cast your tainted soul into the pit, he does.”

  Ahriman smiled as he licked the tears streaming down her cheeks. She cried out from the jolting pain of his icy touch.

  “I lied to him,” the soul-eater whispered. “I told him you couldn’t be found in the whole of this universe. Do you wish to know why?”

  Valencia tried to shake her head but her body refused to obey. She was wholly under this dark Angel’s demented control.

  “I will tell you, fair one,” he cooed.

  She jumped when his icy hands slid around her waist.

  “Because death and eternity in the pits is not my intention concerning you… torment is.” He kissed the back of her shoulder. “You know my true talent, do you not? The seducer, the heart-stealing soul-eater.” He kissed her again. “Do not act as if you’re not aroused by my form. It is desirous to all women. You are no exception. To look upon me is to look upon your deepest desire, your greatest fantasy. And you, my beautiful, flawless little Guardian, you are blessed to be the leading lady in my delicious Festival of Pain.”

  Her terrified eyes frantically searched for the sapphire wings she had spotted only a few seconds ago.

  “He left,” Ahriman said. “Fear not. He isn’t searching for you, my love. He will come for you later. His mind is on another at the moment. I’ll be the one keeping you company for a while, little Guardian. I have something I wish to show you. I bet you’ve never felt anything like it before… no, I promise you haven’t.” He slid his hand inside her dress, squeezing painfully hard on one of her breasts. “I’ve been keeping an eye on that Angel you were just watching. And no, he’s not who you think he is. You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him just yet. But you will.” He slid his cold hands further down inside her clothing. “That rare creature you were just watching, he has unimaginably dark dreams, Valencia… dreadfully dark dreams. I will reveal one for you now, the one he always has concerning the woman he loves… and what befell her at the hands of a maniacal Emperor.”

  Her eyes grew painfully wide at his words.

  “Come now, my little mink. Don’t play coy with
me. You know exactly what Musashi did to his tiny little Jenevier… do you not?”

  She strained, trying to turn her head enough to see the dangerously beautiful dark Angel with the flashing silver eyes. Unwelcome tears still flooding her cheeks.

  “You mean you have no idea what happened to that most colorful of all Angels?” Ahriman feigned shock. “Why? Don’t you have the stomach for it? Can you not abide being witness to what your wicked little heart set into motion?” He laughed again. “You shouldn’t call down the thunder if you’re afraid of the lightning.”

  Valencia jumped, whimpering as Ahriman’s exploring hands continued to demean her in any way he wished.

  “You like that. I can tell,” he said, chuckling.

  His words felt like lethal poison dripping painfully upon her heart, burning tiny holes through her soul. She couldn’t fight. She couldn’t move. Tears were her only defense. And Ahriman loved the taste of those salty drops of regret and fear, especially hers.

  “Fret not, my soon-to-be-lover. I won’t make you witness what Jenevier had to suffer through. The vision of it makes even my absent heart tremble.”

  He licked the side of her face, sucking air in over his teeth, sending terrified tremors all the way to her very core.

  “I won’t show you her pain. I’ll spare you her pitiful cries. Fear not having to gaze into my magical orb, having to witness that horribly fated tragedy. I will not curse you by forcing you to look upon her torn little body. Your dreams would be forever changed if I did thus. No, I don’t plan on showing you any of the evil scenes from that darkest of nights. I plan on letting you experience it… first hand.”

  Her muffled sobs brought him more pleasure than he had anticipated.

  “Are you trying to turn me on, little Guardian?” he whispered. “Here, let me show you what your tears do to me.”

  Her screams remained internal, unheard by the people of this valiant realm, as the soul-eating warrior of darkness meted out his horrific brand of Underworld torture. This was his talent, his forte. And he made certain Valencia experienced his undivided attention like no woman had before. This was the moment he’d dreamt of. The moment he could repay the hurt wrought upon the tiny, curly-haired Angel who had managed to enchant him with her first smile.

  He didn’t truly know what love was, but he knew how Jenevier’s laughter had made him feel. No, he may not know love, but Ahriman definitely knew pain. When he sat by the sapphire-haired Angel’s head—watching the near identical replica of his dark Prince sleep—he saw the horrors playing out in the mind of his favorite Angel’s heaven sent Blessing. That night, sitting by a sleeping Daichi, Ahriman—right hand to the Prince of Hell, soul-eater extraordinaire, bringer of infinite anguish—watched as the ghastly dream unfolded. And that night, the wreaker of havoc realized he did have a heart, for it broke in two. Split right down the middle and stitched itself back up with bitterest tears. He cast aside his hardened façade and let the salty little physical manifestations of wretched grief drip from his chin as he crumbled away inside. The broken dark Angel curled upon the ground, a shaking fetal ball lying there beside the nightmare-plagued Blessing of his much beloved, very first… friend.

  “Why do you protest, beautiful Guardian? I know you love the feel of me moving within you.” His icy laugh returned. “Tell me. What do you think will be left of you? What do you believe will remain of Valencia once I have torn away every ounce of ego, every spark of pride, and every last ray of blessed hope you so feebly cling to? Hmm?” He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back so he could whisper directly into her ear. “Jenevier knows what will be left. She knows all too well what little of you will remain. Now, my lover, let me show you exactly what it is she knows. And what it was you were spared from, until now.”

  Ahriman reveled in her exquisite screams, in her exquisite pain. He was devoid all things save his bitter, vengeful lust. He took his time debasing and destroying her. Yet he made certain this Guardian’s immense physical pain didn’t come close to the debilitating emotional and psychological torture he blessed her with.

  “Has it crossed your mind yet? How horrible this violent claiming of flesh would be if you were but a mere woman? Not a strong, ethereal Guardian, but a tiny, defenseless, terrified mortal?” He purposefully increased her torment. “I can’t hear you, dear Valencia, so I’ll assume we are in agreement on this little point. Since your strength is so much greater than hers was, I will have to elevate my desires to a level befitting the situation. Agreed? I only do this to ensure the intended lesson is learned, well and good.”

  The temptingly beautiful spawn of hell watched as dark red, thick liquid appeared on either side of her spine—just behind his slowly slicing claws. Blood trickled down her back and around her ribcage, dripping quietly to the distant ground.

  “This is what you set into motion, Guardian of Innocence. This can all be saddled upon your iridescent shoulders. Call it karma, call it come-uppance, call it what you will. This is the exquisitely miserable bed you made for another. Now, tell me. Does it not feel deliciously erotic to lie upon?” He doubled her anguish as he spoke. “I will spread word of my deeds upon you this day, Silver Queen. I will tickle the ears of every demon, dark Angel, and fallen one I can find. I will tell them where you live, where you sleep, and exactly how much you liked this. I’m sure they will wish to look upon the one now tamed, try to best my efforts with their own conquest of you.” He licked at the crimson flow trickling down her back, pooling at the base of her spine.

  Her pitiful wails brought a wicked smile to his perfect face. Still, he noted her tears did not surpass Jenevier’s. He had much more to do if he wished to pay her back, bruise for bruise, blow for blow.

  “Valencia, what you have failed to understand for lack of reason and compassion, I will now teach you with pain and wrath.”

  *****

  Daichi paid no attention to the immortals he could feel near him. He was looking for one particular immortal, and he knew neither one of those coupling Angels was his precious Naga.

  War had torn the land he now walked. The people were making ready for a clash of crowns and he could find no trace of his beloved among them.

  His wings were spread for flight when glistening hair caught his eye, the sun gleaming off a rare fair coif.

  “Is Vittorio upon this layer already?” Daichi grumbled. “How is it he didn’t inform me when first he arrived? Never mind. That would be just like him, now, would it not? Finding my Naga and stealing as many precious moments with her as possible. And she would bloody well let him, too. I’ll have to do something about those two, sooner rather than later.” He sighed. “If she only felt as strongly for me as she does that one, all would be well. Alas, I am still as her son, as her baby boy, as her little Daichi.” The constant ache grew in his perfect heart. “Vittorio is head and shoulders above us all in the potential love department,” he muttered to himself as he approached the small band of readied warriors.

  “All is ready, Sire,” Finnean called out.

  “Nay, this one is crowned with white, not silver.” Daichi looked closer. “Yet, he is young… from whence comes his snow? Hmm… There’s something oddly familiar about him. Perhaps it’s only the way his appearance closely matches that of a Guardian. High cheekbones, sharp nose, divinely chiseled features. Only his height is reminiscent of a human man. He’s like a… miniature Vanir.” He chuckled. “I don’t believe I’m far from the truth of it, at that. Perhaps one of Naga’s ethereal brothers found a maid upon this realm he could not deny. I will have to ask Vareilious about this mortal union when next we meet. I’m certain he can fill me in on all the sordid details. Look at those amazing eyes, this one may even prove to belong to that sarcastic giant himself.” Daichi laughed. “A tiny Vareilious. Naga would love to know about this. She will tease him mercilessly. I can’t wait to hear the warrior stammering over his words, trying to explain away his handsome offspring. But there is certainly no denying him, that’s for sure.�
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  He continued to watch as the fearless humans made ready for battle. He drew nearer.

  Shouting commands and forming ranks, the white-haired warrior pulled on his cloak just as the wind picked up, blowing in from behind their invisible ethereal watcher.

  The sapphire Angel was dumbfounded by what happened next. It both angered and pleased him… equally.

  Chapter 16

  Daichi

  (dye-SHEE)

  “Hold, Brothers!”

  Brodder and his remaining generals turned to find Finnean with his hand raised toward them. His eyes were closed, face tilted toward the sun, sniffing the air.

  His ice blue eyes were positively glowing when he turned back to face his King.

  “It’s her,” Finnean shouted. “I can taste her delicious scent on the wind. My beloved is near.”

  A strong gale blew back his hood, causing his cloak to flap wildly in the wind. A heavenly smile warmed his handsome face as he drew ever nearer the unseen Angel.

  Finnean walked past Daichi and halted, turned from whence he came, and stopped directly in front of Jenevier’s giant sapphire Blessing. Inhaling deeply, joy washed over his sharply defined features.

  “Can you not smell her, Brothers?” he called out. “Her glorious scent intoxicates me. I’m surrounded by my Gealach, by my wee moon.”

  Brian ran nearer, suddenly halting as if he had slammed into an invisible wall. His eyelids fluttered and he swayed.

  “Sire, it’s her,” he said. “Never has her scent been quite so strong, so maddening. Yet it is unmistakably her, your only daughter.”