Destiny's Dark Fantasy Boxed Set (Eight Book Bundle)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  Her screams pierced his ears as they beat her, did things to her. His twelve-year-old mind tried to shut out her pleading but he could still hear her wretched wailing, “Matthew, save me!”

  The males holding him said, “This is what happens to females that lie with monsters like you.”

  “She did not lay with me! We are but children. She fed me when I hungered!”

  “Shut up abomination,” and Matthew's head rocked back as a blow from a male of the fragment split his lip like a ripe fruit, blood flowing out of it. His tears of anguish added salt to the pain of his injuries.

  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he could hear her no more. The males who assaulted her took her limp body and threw it at his feet, laughing derisively, “A lot of fight in that one!” Matthew told himself he would not look at her... but then he did. Her frail form lay broken and bleeding. The long, dark hair strewn about like black water mingling with the pool of her blood.

  Matthew looked up at the males responsible for her death, memorizing each face and vowed he would kill them all one day.

  “Look at his face, he is so strong...” they mocked him. One kicked him in the ribs almost playfully but they did not give. Matthew had a very strong constitution but as the night wore on, it was proven that even he could not take all the beating they had for him. Eventually he passed out from the pain.

  When Matthew could move again and he was certain he could escape, he vowed to never love another female. The pain too great a price.

  People were not to be trusted.

  His vow intact, he fled. Leaving the fragment and a piece of his heart there forever.

  Clara saw Matthew's fists clench and unclench while he looked at her. Surely he was not cross with her? But rage burned twin holes into her body and she stepped back, confused.

  He gave a disgusted exhale and strode off, narrowly missing a young man who was walking by.

  Joseph and Stephen looked at each other and walked off, following him.

  Lillian took Clara's hand. “Do not mind him... he is not at all sociable. Mayhap the interaction surprised him.”

  Indeed, if that was the case, Clara felt she was more in tune with shock, having left surprise behind some time ago.

  She allowed herself to be led away and fervently wished for the streetlamps that would have been burning inside the sphere to light their way back to the cottage.

  Even with Lillian by her side she had never felt so alone.

  CHAPTER 30

  Queen Ada stood before the guards, giving them the full measure of her gaze. “My daughter is gone, and her cohort, Charles, is also gone. And one of our own sentry guards has disappeared as well.”

  She swayed over to the nearest guard, her hand lashing out to grasp his chin, eye-to-eye, .and those eyes were wide. No one wished to have the Queen's full attention. Her fingers bit into the tender flesh of his jaw. “Who is responsible for allowing those two traitors free access to the Outside... damaging the sphere-wall once more?” She threw his face away and he stumbled a little the crescents left by her nails filling with blood.

  “It disgusts me that you would allow more damage. The sphere is the thickness of parchment now!” she raged, storming about the Gathering Room in a fit of temper as she threw up her hands in a jerky, chaotic dance. Bright, irregular spots of molted color appeared on her face and she whirled around, the royal guard stilling as one.

  “You will find her and those two traitors and bring her back to this sphere! It is apparent to all that we might now survive Outside. No matter.” She waved away the uneasy shifting and murmurings from the guard, none of which wished to risk the Outside. Their whole lives warned against it.

  “Your Majesty.” Her eyes narrowed on a guard brazen enough to address her directly.

  “Mayhap you should accompany us so that you may address her captors directly. Obviously they should be punished for daring to take our Princess.”

  The queen stopped her frenetic pacing, the wine goblet stem a constant thing she stroked.

  What of her wine?

  But it was King Otto who answered, “Given the circumstance Queen Ada, myself and Prince Frederic would be happy to assist by maintaining things here for your short journey. And,” he said, mustering up false sincerity like a sudden storm, “we would very much like to supply whatever you may need.”

  The wine, she interpreted with tremendous relief.

  Yes, she would like to go on this journey. That wretched girl had done it this time. She probably begged to go with the horrible savages. Anything to not fulfill her betrothal obligation. She had never been grateful for Ada's sacrifices for her, for that stupid man she married... Raymond. What a waste, a martyr like Clara. No matter, at least she was Queen, she smiled grimly. She had that and her wine.

  “Very well,” she looked about her and caught sight of Elvira, “you-servant.” Elvira rushed over, her body and face cowed. “Get my reticule and everything that one needs for...”

  She looked sharply at the guard with the big mouth.

  “One week your majesty, methinks we need that much time.”

  Queen Ada made an exasperated sound low in her throat.

  Imbeciles.

  Could no one get anything done with haste?

  She looked back at Elvira. “Are you daft? You heard him, one week,” she enunciated slowly as if the girl could not hear.

  Elvira scurried off, knowing the Queen would squish her like a noxious bug if she were to be afoot a moment longer.

  Ada whirled around again, slightly unsteady, already loathing that she had sent that stupid girl away.

  Her goblet was quite empty.

  Prince Frederic looked at the guard and they gave him uneasy eyes back. “Why don't I take that from you, Queen Ada. Would you like to enjoy a brief respite with father, while I secure refreshments?” he inquired, never taking his eyes off Ada's.

  He captured the goblet, plucking it from her limp fingers as she cast a benevolent smile upon him at the same time he was fantasizing about how close he had come to having her daughter in his grasp.

  And he would again.

  He would take his own guard, trailing behind hers in secret. And there would be an unfortunate ambush...one that she would not recover from.

  Who would the pearl kingdom have then?

  It would have him, the Prince thought. Strolling away with the Queen's goblet in his fist, the brilliant blue crystal throwing shards of color as he walked away.

  It speared the carpet, a path of blue blood splashing before him.

  ****

  Clara and Lillian made their careful way to the hot springs, its beaten path anciently etched between great swaths of densely blanketed evergreen trees. Clara breathed deeply of the fragrant air, never able to get enough of it, the headiness a taste upon her tongue. There was nothing for her to match it in her memory, it was unique.

  Lillian watched her and thought how strange it was that she smelled everything. Of course, she had never been outside before. For Clara, every sight, smell and taste was a first. She had been almost reverent of their crude food tonight, asking about every little detail. Lillian decided that she was quite good company. Not at all what a Princess should be.

  They had an old book of fairy tales that talked about royalty like remote creatures that were above everyone. Although Clara had a strikingly delicate beauty, as told in the tales, she was comfortable to be around and not haughty in any way.

  Lillian liked her.

  Lillian was nervous of Matthew following a scarce twenty feet behind them, he had not seemed himself lately. Always quiet and brooding; since the acquisition plans for the Princess, his mood had changed from quiet and brooding to remote and edgy. Joseph and Stephen were sweeping the perimeter of the clan as was typical at this time. She watched Anna as she walked ahead of them. Lillian had invited her but she was so shy she removed herself from the conversation. Lillian sighed, would she ever relax with her? Of course, with a male close by, somet
imes just their presence was enough to make her skittish as a colt.

  Lillian glanced behind her and did not see Matthew. Thank goodness, checking all points of possible entry. Let him scout and be out of her sight. Soon enough, she would have to address Clara's status as select. That she did not look forward to.

  Anna stopped ahead of them, the cave entrance to the springs directly ahead.

  She turned, her dark eyes probing around them in the dimness of the twilight. “Where is Matthew?” her eyes danced restlessly.

  Lillian shrugged. “Scouting, I presume.”

  Clara looked where Anna did. Seeing nothing, she went to move forward and Lillian caught her wrist. “Have a care.”

  Clara looked down and saw that the ground had grown soft and a pebbled path veered off to the right, leading down into the murky darkness.

  But for some light! Just as she thought it, Anna pulled a candle from her small reticule and Lillian poured the smallest amount of foul smelling fluid over it. Using a small ignition, Lillian lit the candle. Clara thought, they have no steam to power their lights. The candle illuminated the path in front of them, but vaguely. Little more than enough to keep them from stumbling.

  Finally, after another five minutes of walking, they arrived at a small dark pool. Lazy spirals of steam made a rich vapor in the air, clinging to the surface like departed spirits. A pocket of sky rode the open area where there was no tree cover. The moon, almost full, lit the water and Clara realized she'd been wrong. She could see quite well from where she stood.

  The two women undressed quickly and got in. Lillian gave a satisfied groan of pleasure. “It has been two days since my last bath and I, for one, was in need of it,” she said, flipping suddenly on her back and floating. The moonlight caressed her form. The belly which held the babe with the barest swell.

  “Do get in, Clara,” Lillian said.

  Clara looked about her nervously. “What of Matthew?”

  She did not want to be naked and vulnerable with any male around. The assault upon her by Prince Frederic was still a fresh wound.

  Anna smiled and it took Clara's breath away, she was lovely. But had been so solemn since their first introduction Clara had not known what to think of her. The look of happiness suited her.

  Looking about her once more, she was satisfied. Removing her clothes, she stood naked, the slight breeze refreshingly cool and unique upon her bare skin. This is what the wind felt like. For it could not be seen, only felt.

  Matthew saw the Princess look right at him through the trees and held very still. The other women had already gone into the spring but it was she that made his heart speed, he had not bothered to even glance at the others. She turned her face away and his eyes stole from the top of her head to her feet. She made him ache. He did not know why.

  How he hated her perfection: the perfectly formed body with a waist so small his hands could span it, and her eyes...! The heat that had infused his body when he had brushed her skin to arrest her fall rose up to the surface of him again.

  So this is what a select could do. He would not have it and neither would the Band. He would get rid of her, take her back to the sphere or somewhere else. But as he looked upon her form, the moon making a silhouette of her body the ache grew in intensity and it made him more angry, not less. He would wait until they finished then take her with him.

  No female could make him care again, select or no.

  Clara immersed herself in water that was almost too hot for her flesh. Much of which was tender from the new movement of the horse, sleeping on the ground and she was still sore from the beatings.

  Yet that was fading and she had a glimmer of hope. It shimmered just below the surface of her soul, waiting to solidify.

  Memories of Charles stole over her slowly and her mood turned melancholy.

  “Clara...” Lillian spoke her name softly.

  “Yes?”

  “Because of the way you interacted with Matthew, we know what you are to us.”

  Clara stilled in the water, the fragrant soap Lillian had given her a foamy pile atop her head.

  “The Evil Ones...” The Guardians, Clara corrected mentally, “have a prophesy of sorts. Which speaks of this problem of our people dwindling and then the mingling of a new people. Females that will be our salvation. They will unlock the genetic code for us to begin to live again, have children again.” she touched her belly with reverence.

  “You are one of the select, Clara.”

  Oh my Guardian, Clara thought. Those words were right out of the book that Stella, Clara's great-great grandmother, had kept safe for the royal family. It was no coincidence that the Guardians had called the people they chose for the spheres' the select. But how could they know? These clan-dwellers?

  “And what does this mean for me? For the Band?”

  “Are there others like yourself inside the sphere?” Anna asked, finally entering into the conversation.

  “There are many females and males as well,” Clara said, confused.

  Lillian shook her head. “No, mayhap a relation or someone that is special...?”

  Clara had many relations, much of them very distant. She told that to Lillian who shrugged. “You may make it known during your negotiation on behalf of our president that this is a wonderful possibility.”

  Clara did not think the females of the sphere would be receptive to the savages needing special mates. But she did not say, not wishing to alienate these females who were working toward a fragile friendship.

  Clara relaxed again, using the pause in conversation to rinse off her hair, her breasts tipped to the sky. Wringing the remainder of the water from her hair she sank down into the warm depths, grateful for the heat that stole the chill she had felt from the air.

  Matthew's eyes followed her motions with an abiding hunger.

  “Tell us of the sphere,” Anna said, her timid voice mingling with the sounds of the forest. They were small but so many it was a background symphony of nature, ebbing and flowing in volume.

  Clara closed her eyes and spoke into the dark, “It is like anyone's life. I work in the fields by day and by night I think on royal things. My duties.”

  Matthew drew closer, trying to catch her words. He wanted to know more as well. He crouched down, listening.

  “The fields?” Anna asked.

  “The oyster fields. They yield succulent meats and gems that we use for trade with other spheres.”

  “How many spheres are there?” Lillian asked.

  “Just nineteen,” Clara replied, thinking again how she would like to visit the sea. Suddenly she remembered Anna was from a sea clan.

  “What of you, Anna? I hear that you hail from a sea clan.”

  Clara waited in the darkness for so long she was planning to repeat her question when Anna finally answered, “Yes, I am from a sea clan. But I do not speak of it.”

  Clara thought before she spoke, intuiting much of what may trouble Anna. “I too, have bad things which await me in the sphere. That is why I was where I was when the Band came upon me and Charles and Prince Frederic,” she whispered.

  Yes, Matthew wondered. Who are Charles and Prince Frederic?

  “Who are they?” Lillian asked, and a fine tremble broke over Clara, sweat beading on her upper lip. Thinking about the attack made her breath quicken and become shallow.

  “What is it? Clara, what is wrong?” Anna asked.

  Matthew stood, what was going on? He scanned the environment, his night vision that of an owl. Seeing no threat, he crouched again.

  Clara reminded herself that the attack was not happening now but she was quaking like a schoolgirl. Prince Frederic was obviously not here.

  She clearly saw the faces of Anna and Lillian staring anxiously at her and felt some explanation was in order. “I was to marry Prince Frederic of the Kingdom of Kentucky. The Queen...”

  “Your mother,” Lillian clarified.

  Clara nodded. “She wished to ally the kingdoms so that they m
ay mutually benefit each other.”

  “What do they have that you need?” Anna asked.

  Nothing, Clara thought.

  “Grapes,” she answered instead. “And we have pearls and oyster meat aplenty. Many of the spheres would do much for our alliance but Queen Ada chose this kingdom.”

  Lillian's eyes narrowed, there was something here that did not quite agree. “If that were so, then why do you escape?”

  Clara said nothing.

  “If this alliance is so critical, why do you leave?” she pressed.

  Anna interrupted, “Grapes for eating?”

  “Yes, and for wine.”

  “Spirits?” Lillian asked.

  “Not exactly, but of a sort,” Clara responded carefully. “He was beating me.” she hung her head.

  Anna floated over to where Clara was and put an arm around her. “He is not here now to hurt you.”

  That Prince who attacked her was to marry her? Matthew could not understand a marriage between the two of them. Could he, in good conscience, return her to the sphere knowing what fate she might have there? He was troubled by what he was hearing. He listened.

  Something tight and horrible loosened in Clara's chest. She almost felt safe.

  “And the Band, they came upon me in the tunnel. Prince Frederic had somehow known I was attempting to break free and intercepted our escape. He tried... to rape me,” Clara whispered.

  Dear Lord, Lillian thought, we have a monster living in the sphere. One that preys on females. That would not be tolerated in the clans. Well that was untrue, judging by Anna's expression. She understood exactly what Clara had been through.

  Anna looked at Clara with sympathy. “I made a narrow escape from a similar event, one that led me here as well. Not all males are as that one.”

  Clara knew that. After all, she had known Charles her whole life and he had been nothing but tender and loving. Their friendship unsullied by violence or rancor.

  Matthew was shocked. He had thought her a spoiled female of high rank that possibly enjoyed violent trysts. But it did not explain the way her face looked before. Was there other violence against her? It made no sense. Why would their Queen allow the abuse of her own kin?