Lord of the Abyss & Desert Warrior

by Nalini Singh

  NIGHT-HORSES WERE CREATURES of legend, rare and fierce. Her father had never been able to trap one, though he coveted their proud blood—and for that mercy, she could only thank the heavens. Standing beside Micah, she looked at the two huge beasts he’d brought forward—both were as black as pitch, with eyes of a startling amber that sparked with temper.

  Huffing and pawing at the ground, they showed her their teeth, as if they would take a bite out of her. Micah, strapping his sword to the saddlebag, tapped the nearest one on the nose. “She is my mate. Treat her with respect.”

  Liliana didn’t know what shocked her more—Micah’s words, or the way the horses dropped their heads as if in shame. Staring at Micah, who seemed oblivious to the turmoil he’d engendered within her, she reached forward to cautiously pet first one velvety nose, then the other. “You are very magnificent,” she said with complete honesty. “I’m sure you are the fastest creatures in all the realms.”

  Their heads lifted, manes flaring in pride. In those eyes of amber lightning, she saw magic that sang to her blood. “You must run,” she whispered. “When you have taken us to our destination, turn around and promise me you will run.” Her father, if he caught these amazing beasts, would brutalize them—to imagine them broken and bloody in razor chains made her heart ache.

  The horses neighed in rebellion.

  “They are creatures of great pride, Liliana,” Micah told her, “warriors in their own right. We must treat them as comrades.”

  It was hard for her to do that, to accept that she might be riding these glorious animals to their deaths, but there was no arguing with the sentient eyes looking back at her. “Thank you, friends.” With that, she swung herself onto one of the horses and waited for Micah to do the same.

  The innkeeper and his lady wife—both considerably richer—waved them goodbye with tearful eyes, aware of their destination. They were good people, had promised Liliana and Micah that there would always be a bed for them at the inn regardless of what may come.

  Taking a last look at the cheery building, Liliana met eyes of winter-green. “Ready?”

  His response was a wicked smile and a, “Whoa!” that sent his night-horse racing ahead.

  Laughing—an unforeseen gift—she raced after him, her own magical partner ready for the chase. They raced each other until the inn faded out of sight, then settled into a steady run of such furious speed that Liliana expected to see wings. Exhilarated in spite of the evil to come, she allowed herself a moment to remember the time before dawn.

  Waking in such a way, to see Micah with that playful, sensual smile on his face, his body so big and hot around her, inside her…it was something she wanted to experience a million times over. But even if, by some inconceivable miracle, she survived this, she knew that was never going to happen. Micah believed what he said, of that she had not a single doubt, but she also knew how royal houses functioned.

  A prince, regardless of his position in line for the throne, was expected to marry a certain kind of woman, a woman with an unsullied past, one who could carry the crown of princess with elegance and beauty.

  Everything Liliana was not.

  You could be his mistress.

  The sly suggestion came from the part of her that had no honor where Micah was concerned. She was sure she would do any terrible thing to be with him—but she didn’t think she could stand to share him, to know that another woman had the right to bear his name and his children, to love him and hold him. It would break her.

  No, when the time came, she would quash this selfish need and let him go, allow him to embrace the destiny that had always been his.

  “Liliana!”

  Looking up, she followed the line of Micah’s raised hand. She couldn’t see anything at first, but then realized the ground not far in front of them was moving. “What is that?”

  “Snakes.”

  Horror uncurled within her—the writhing sprawl went on at least five lengths deep, in every direction as far as the eye could see. There was no way to circle or jump it. Then she saw the glittering red scales on the snakes’ backs. “Get back!” Touching Micah’s arm, she urged him to move back with her. “Their poison,” she said when they were at a safe distance, “it’s enough to bring down the horses.”

  The night-horses shook their heads and stamped their feet, as if in violent disagreement. Proud, temperamental creatures. Rather like the man in front of her, who scowled. “Snake fangs can’t penetrate their skin.”

  “These snakes aren’t natural,” she told him, having been chained naked in the tower room when her father created them, her wounds seeping. He’d needed powerful blood, but the Blood Sorcerer rarely spilled his own. “Their fangs are made of steel. However, I can use my sorcery to make them move.”

  Thick and gleaming, the snakes’ hissing was a continuous susurration in the air as they stroked and rolled over one another—when they weren’t devouring each other. Strange how her father’s creations had a way of turning out cannibalistic. Thicker than Micah’s forearm and at least ten feet long, each could crush a human being. The only good news was that they appeared to be restricted to moving within a defined boundary—likely a sorcerous safeguard to ensure they wouldn’t spread across the land.

  “We won’t use your magic,” Micah said after a moment. “Your father may have laid further traps tied to your blood. As we are now in a realm in which he holds power, there is a good chance the effects will be more virulent.”

  Though it galled, she agreed. There was also no point in giving away her presence when the element of surprise was the only real advantage they had. “They’re afraid of fire,” she said, remembering her father’s anger at that flaw. “But it’d have to be a big one to scare a swarm this large.”

  “We don’t need to scare them all.” Turning his night-horse so that he was positioned behind her, he said, “When I tell you to go, you take your horse and fly. Understood.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Promise me.”

  Thinking he needed to be sure because the escape would require split-second timing, she nodded. “I promise.” Stroking the mane of her night-horse, which was too intelligent to fuss, but clearly didn’t like being near the snakes, she waited. And almost screamed in horror as she turned back to see Micah jump off his horse and to the ground. “No!”

  “Remember your promise.” With that, he dug his fingers into the earth. The strain across his shoulders and on his face was obvious, beads of sweat trickling down his temples. But his eyes, they were focused forward. Following his gaze, she saw the swarm grow agitated, hissing in a nonstop chorus, sharp and fractious.

  An instant later, they began to slither rapidly away in two directions, opening a narrow—too narrow—corridor in between. That’s when she saw thin runnels of magma forcing their way out of the earth, burning the snakes bellies, making them squirm to get away. Heart thudding, she went to turn to look at Micah again when she heard, “Run!”

  Every part of her wanted to rebel but she’d promised, and so she bent over the long neck of her night-horse, spurring the valiant creature across the magna, its feet flying so fast she hoped its hooves would be spared from harm. It wasn’t until she was almost to the other side that she realized she couldn’t hear anyone behind her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  MICAH DIDN’T KNOW THIS LAND. It wasn’t his. Rather than speaking to it, he had to force his power into the earth, literally pull up the magma. It was difficult, leaving his muscles rigid. Knowing the thin streams of molten liquid would retreat the second he broke contact, he waited until Liliana was safely on the other side before rising and jumping onto his night-horse in a single smooth motion.

  The intelligent creature leaped at the same instant and they were off, the earth’s heated tears already retreating. Hissing, the snakes began to arrow back, their goal the legs of his horse. He saw Lily jump off her own steed, caught the light glinting off the blade in her hand and knew she was
ready to use her blood magic. Not yet, not yet.

  He bent down flat over the night-horse’s nape. “Ready, my friend?”

  A powerful leap, muscles bunching, and the night-horse cleared the final snake to come to a scrabbling stop on the slight rise beyond. Dropping her blade, Liliana ran to him as he jumped off the horse. He expected an embrace. She thrust at his chest with both of her hands instead. “How could you do that to me!” Fury colored her cheeks, brightened her eyes. “You could’ve been lying there dead with those horrible snakes biting into you!”

  Micah grabbed her wrists, but she just started kicking him instead. So then he crushed her in his arms, tangling her legs with his own. “Liliana,” he began, but she wasn’t listening. Having never had an enraged woman in his arms before, he wasn’t quite sure what to do, but it seemed reasonable that pleasure might mute her anger.

  So he kissed her.

  She bit his lip.

  Jerking away, he glared at her. “I saved us!”

  “By putting your life in mortal danger!” She tried to push at his chest again, her breath coming in jagged spurts. “How would you have felt if that had been me? How?”

  Ice down his spine, through his veins. “I’m sorry, Liliana.” He’d never before said such a thing to anyone—the Lord of the Black Castle need not apologize to a soul. Except, it seemed, the bad-tempered creature in his arms, the one who had bitten him hard enough that it stung.

  She blinked at his words. “Sorry?”

  “Yes.”

  Her lower lip quivered and then she was throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him tight. “If you die, my heart will break. You mustn’t die, Micah. You mustn’t.” Wet against his skin.

  She was crying.

  “You are using up all your chances for the year,” he growled. “Don’t think I’m not keeping track.”

  A sniff, a hiccup and then she was lifting away her head to touch her finger to his lip. “Does it hurt?” Remorse in those storm-sky eyes that had become his lode-star.

  “Terribly.”

  “Oh, Micah.” Rising up on tiptoe, Liliana sucked that lip into her mouth, suckled gently before going back down flat on her feet and taking a deep breath. “I have to tell you something.” He’d be so angry, but after what she’d just lived through, she understood what a staggering hurt she’d be doing him if she sacrificed herself to save him.

  Her heart still ached from the pain of that instant when she’d thought he wouldn’t make it, her mind tortured with images of him helpless under those slashing fangs. The nightmare sight wasn’t one she would ever forget, and it made her take a grim look at the consequences of her plan. To make Micah helpless while she died…it would do more damage to him than any of her father’s traps, savage that proud heart.

  A heavy scowl on his face. “You’ve lied to me again.”

  “It wasn’t a real lie,” she said, knowing she was only digging the hole deeper.

  “I can read your guilt. Tell me.”

  Knowing there was no way to dress up the cold finality of the act she’d been contemplating, she just spit it out. “I know how to kill my father. However, the spell requires a death.”

  Rage turned the winter-green molten. “And you’re angry at me?” He’d obviously realized exactly whose death would’ve been involved.

  “I didn’t know you when I came up with the idea.”

  Wild fury, his eyes never shifting off her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  No effect.

  Baring her teeth, she pushed at his chest. “I accepted your apology.”

  “I didn’t plan to die and forget to tell you.”

  Guilt stabbed but she folded her arms, because if she gave in now, he’d bully her into doing everything exactly as he wanted. “You also didn’t warn me. I just did.” And in so doing, had ended their best hope of defeating her father—because there was no way Micah would allow her to go through with it.

  Snarling, he kissed her. “If you even think about using that spell, I’ll chain you up to a tree while I go meet your father alone.”

  Fisting her hands against his chest, she bit at his jaw. “You dare do that and I’ll use blood sorcery to send you to another kingdom.”

  He threw her up on her clearly bemused night-horse with a growl. “I’ll punish you later.”

  “Vengeful man.”

  “Remember that.”

  With that, they were on the road to Elden once more.

  It was perhaps noon that they came upon the giant bridge troll with a stone mallet so big it would’ve crushed both man and beast should he have brought it down. But in this case, no violence was needed.

  The troll, a creature who had something of a magpie’s nature, was appeased by a gift of pink sapphires and rough-cut topaz. Micah scowled at losing so much of his treasury, but Liliana glared at him and so he didn’t say a word—not until they were past the gloating creature, who was currently holding his jewels up to the sun. Then he muttered about the wisdom of giving such precious gems to a troll who would only hide them in his cave.

  Liliana turned to argue with him since, at least now, he’d calmed down enough to talk to her, but never got the chance to speak a word—because that was when the arrows began flying.

  A sharp pain.

  Crying out, she fell over the neck of her horse, an arrow embedded in her left arm. Desperate for her blood not to touch the earth—her father might not have bothered to tie warning enchantments to the air as that took much power, but he would most certainly have tied them to the land—she clamped her hand over the wound and tried to keep her seat as her night-horse followed Micah’s to a small ridge behind which they could take cover.

  Grabbing her from the saddle the instant they were stationary, Micah sat her down. “We must pull this arrow out.”

  Nodding, she bit down on the gauntleted arm he held against her mouth as he removed the arrow with his other hand. Tears rolled down her face, but she forced herself not to use her sorcery to stitch up the wound. Any trap her father had laid would spring at the confluence of her blood and magic.

  Slapping a wadded piece of cloth over the wound and telling her to hold it there, Micah wrapped the arrow in another cloth and thrust it into a saddlebag to ensure none of her blood touched the earth.

  “Brave girl,” he murmured, cupping her face. “I am sure I would’ve roared with displeasure and threatened to throw you in the dungeon.”

  His words made her smile through the pain. “I’m sure you would have.” Squeezing his wrist when he went as if to call on the power he carried within, she said, “You already used it with the snakes. You must conserve your energy,” and tugged at the bottom of her tunic. “Rip off a piece of this and tie it over the compress. It’ll do—I’m not bleeding much now.”

  A scowl. “Lily—”

  “You must listen to me on this.” Arrows thudded into the rise behind them. “I know my father’s strength—and we’ll need everything we have if we aren’t to use the death spell.”

  “We’ll talk about this later.” Ripping off a strip of her tunic, he tied it around her arm.

  More arrows thudded home.

  “Do you know who’s shooting at us?” she asked.

  “A pod of gremlins.”

  Liliana winced. The small, thin creatures with their pointed brown teeth, corpse-gray skin and thirst for blood were natural allies of her father, feeding as they did on carrion. But it appeared they had turned from scavengers to hunters after years of unparalleled freedom. “They won’t give up now.”

  “Then we’ll have to get rid of them.” Going to his saddlebags, he returned with both the arrow that had hit her and a number of small, sleek knives.

  He touched the arrow to a blade, murmured low deep words under his breath. “A small magic, Lily. Child’s play.” Rising, he threw the blade in the general direction of the gremlins. A scream of pain sounded, followed by a hail of arrows landing around them.

  Smiling, Micah began to
pick them up.

  The gremlins ran off screaming after their arrows kept returning—to unerringly find living targets. “That was very clever,” she said as he helped her back onto her horse. Her arm hurt, but she could still use it and that was what mattered.

  “It’s from a game my father taught me.” Micah pulled himself up onto his own horse, looking no more drained than he had after dealing with the snakes. “To find things.”

  And what Micah had found, they saw when they looked into the bushes where the gremlins had been hiding, were the hearts of the shriveled and hairless creatures who had the two legs and arms of man, but the intelligence of a rat. The only things they wore were their weapons. Before running away, their “friends” had hacked off an arm and a leg each—to snack on, most likely. Gremlins didn’t care what they ate as long as it was dead.

  “Nothing here, Lily. Let’s go.”

  It seemed like forever before they reached the border to Elden, the sky turning from blue to orange to dark red as the hours passed. There were other obstacles in their path, including a hungry ensorcelled bear and a fleet of crows with venomous beaks. The bear they’d been able to simply fool, but Micah had had to use his magic the other times…and he was getting weaker with each incident.

  It was on the edge of sunset that they finally crossed an invisible line that had him saying, “Elden.” The wonder in his voice quickly turned into rage and sorrow as he saw the state of the land around them, unmistakable even under the shadow of oncoming night—the trees stunted and browned, the ground cracked, no birdsong in the air, though it was early yet.

  Jumping to the earth, Micah touched his hands to it. “We have come,” he whispered. “We have come.”

  The ground rumbled, but it was broken, almost dead.

  No, no. A tear fell in her heart. Without the earth’s strength, Micah was now too weak to battle the Blood Sorcerer and live.

  He lifted his head at that instant, his eyes incandescent with a chaos of emotions. “Give me a knife, Lily.”

  “No, Micah.” Jumping down herself, she blocked him from going to his saddlebags. “If you bleed yourself here, my father will win and the land would die, anyway.”