by Jo Carlisle
It was over. He’d turned and sold out the prince. Sold out their love. Harley heard his voice from somewhere in the distance as he pressed his throbbing shaft against her. The bitch.
They sank to their knees together, shedding their robes, naked in each other’s arms. The tips of her nipples grazing his chest, her fingers buried in his beautiful sable hair. Hands grappling, mouths devouring.
Spots peppered Harley’s vision, and she gladly let the blackness take away the pain.
Soren watched Arron leave; then his gaze went to Harley lying nearby. His tormented mind was reeling from the mix of emotions swirling through him. The lust, and the certainty that this was wrong. Trying to fight it, to remember his true name. The shock and horror on Harley’s face made the vampire locked inside him cry out in agony.
No! Oh, God, who am I?
The demon in his black soul squelched the cry as Leila pointed to the pillows. “Lie down and ready yourself. You are my toy now, to use as I desire.”
Shaking, Soren did as he was ordered. He lay before her, arms over his head, legs spread. Heat rushed to his cock and it hardened painfully.
“That’s it, my love. Give yourself to the darkness.” She knelt between his thighs and bent low. Her black hair fanned across his lap, her breath warming his groin.
“Leila.” He made a helpless sound in his throat. Fight this. But he couldn’t.
She smiled. “My darling, no one understands our kind. The need, the desire we share. Embrace the craving, and know that part of you exists only to quench it. Forever. Let’s see how you taste.”
Her little tongue licked his balls, teasing. He groaned, spreading his legs wider. She took them in her mouth, sucking the sensitive flesh. Her teeth grazed them and a slight pain followed, quickly doused by a tidal wave of erotic pleasure.
“Like me tasting your blood there, do you?” she laughed huskily. “Tell me whom you belong to.”
“You, my queen.” No!
“What do you wish for me to do to you?”
Something broke inside him, and he knew his last hope for redemption was being ripped away. The man inside him was being silenced forever. But he had no choice.
“Whatever you want. Take me; drink from me.”
She nipped his balls, suckling, driving him mad. Her tongue lapped the length of his shaft until he could stand no more.
“Please, please . . .”
Her mouth sheathed him to the very base. A wet, hot cavern sliding up and down. Black velvet between his legs, enslaving him.
“Ah yesss.” He pumped his hips, filling her, climbing higher until—
She sank her demon’s fangs into him, and lightning rocketed to every cell. He bucked, shouting in ecstasy, welcoming the wickedness rolling through his body. She took him deep, all of him. Sucking, drinking. There was nothing, nothing but his cock on fire. The ecstasy building to a wild crescendo, tormenting him.
His cock exploded and his body shuddered as he sent his release into her. She drank the very essence of him until the spasms ended. Then she licked him clean and raised her gaze to his, smirking in victory.
What have I done?
Shame engulfed him and sickness gripped his stomach. At the same time, his beast was roaring for blood.
How long he lay there, steeped in misery, suffering from this new, hellish desire, he didn’t know. He was only vaguely aware of Arron’s return, of Leila speaking with him.
“Is it done?”
“Yes. Zenon awaits us at the temple outside the city. He’s under guard.”
“Let him wait a while longer. I have need of you.”
Soren could hear the satisfaction in her voice. What is she up to now?
“How may I serve you, my queen?”
“Before we leave, we must make certain that Soren is properly prepared. I’ve already begun, but his reserves are quite remarkable. It’s your turn.”
Soren rolled to his back, heart thrumming. Arron threw him a heated look, flinging a long lock of hair over his shoulder. “You wish for me to arouse his lust?”
“Yes, but do not allow him to drink from you. By the time we’re finished, our new prince will be so crazed for blood, he’ll slaughter them all.”
Arron nodded his assent, moved to him. Sympathy sparked in his green eyes as he laid his beautiful body over Soren’s, legs entwined. He bent his handsome face close, muscular arms on either side of his captive’s head.
Soren shook his head, even as desire pooled between his legs once more. “No.”
“Yes,” Arron breathed into his mouth. Then claimed it.
The kiss electrified his nerve endings, then deepened, the wolf ’s expert tongue sweeping inside to devour him. His cry of denial was lost as the beast inside him embraced the passion, the erotic things Arron did to his body. All of the things Leila had done and more—much more. Again and again.
Until he was starving and out of his mind with the need for blood.
Leila had conquered him. Except . . .
A glimmer of hope shone beyond the despair.
Soren could still distinguish himself from the beast, just barely. Whatever it took, he’d destroy himself before he’d harm Harley or the others.
And when the time came, he no longer had any doubt that he would deserve his end.
“Wake up, pretty dove.”
Harley fought to burrow back into her dreams. It couldn’t be time to get ready for work. Just five more minutes.
“Harley, wake up.”
Her eyes popped open. She wasn’t back in St. Louis, in bed. And that wasn’t Soren’s voice. She sat up to find herself looking at Arron’s anxious face. While she’d been out, she’d been returned to the same chamber as before. Except for Arron, she was alone. Alarm seized her.
“What’s happening? Where’s Soren?”
“He’s getting ready to go to the temple. We haven’t much time.”
“For what?”
“To get you far away from here, if you wish. Leila would likely never bother with you again. She will have much more pressing interests after tonight’s outcome.”
“But what about Soren?” she asked quietly.
Arron shook his head sadly. “He must stay, at least for now. Unleashing him on the world in his state would be a disaster, and the future of the Coalition is resting on his shoulders. To be honest, things are looking dismal.”
She crossed her arms and rubbed at the sudden goose bumps. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not leaving without him.”
“The risk is tremendous. He is the beast now. How can I make you understand? The bright flame inside him that was goodness has been reduced to nothing more than a tiny pinprick of light. Even if he wants to fight against evil in the coming battle, he may be unable to do so. Leila has ordered him to kill you, dove.”
“I still don’t believe he’d ever hurt me or anyone else!”
“Yesterday that was true. But now . . . I’m sorry.”
Her lip trembled and tears blurred her vision. She had to ask, but, God, she didn’t want the answer. “Has he b-been with h-her tonight?”
Arron combed his fingers through her hair, brushing the strands out of her face. “Ah, love. He is her creation now, and has given his body to her, yes.”
“Nooo.” The sob was torn from her throat.
“Understand, his mind is no longer his own. He cannot control his sexual response, whether it’s to Leila or me.”
Startled, she gasped and raised her eyes to his. “You?”
“Yes, I’ve taken him, as well. I imagine this does not ease the pain in your heart much, but his actions are not the betrayal you think. You have a human’s emotions and mores.”
This was too strange. Her head was beginning to pound. “I don’t understand.”
“How can I explain? I don’t generally prefer men. But most immortals, especially vampires, are sexual creatures by nature. Our responsiveness is far beyond what a human can experience or perhaps grasp. But beyond that, he has been
in Leila’s thrall ever since he took her blood.”
“Sounds like an excuse to me.” She sniffed.
“You must see what Soren is going through, what he’s up against. I could enthrall you, too, dove, and you wouldn’t be able to resist me even if you wanted to. I’m an immortal. I could place you completely under my spell and we’d have sex, and if we did, there could be no shame on your part because I’d given you no real choice.”
Harley was beginning to understand what he was telling her. She nodded. “Okay. I think I get it.”
“Good. Then we must go the temple—and pray we survive the battle.”
“What about your son? If Leila is destroyed, you may never learn where he is.” The dejection on his face saddened her.
“I have to face the fact that she’ll never tell me. I’m breaking free of her. Tonight. I’ll have to find my son on my own.”
Harley cupped his face. “We’ll help you. I’m with you all the way, and so is Soren. The man I love is inside Soren somewhere, and we’re going to win. All of us.” He looked away, his lovely eyes troubled. “What is it?”
“Zenon passed something to me in secret—a vial of his blood. I gave it to Soren earlier, when Leila left the room. If all goes wrong tonight, if he can no longer fight the evil, he can choose to consume the poison.”
Her hand went to her mouth. “Does it work fast?”
“No, dove. A vampire can’t suffer a more hideous death, even by fire, than from drinking the blood of a pure demon.”
“My God.” She thought back to earlier. “But wait. He drank from Valafar.”
“His blood isn’t pure. Zenon’s is. Let us hope it doesn’t come to this. Are you ready to go?”
“No, but I don’t suppose we have a choice.”
“You have one.”
“No, I don’t,” she said firmly.
“There’s the spirit. Wherever his soul is, Soren Fontaine is a lucky bastard.”
And where is your soul, my love? She thought in anguish. Where are you, Soren?
Gathering her robe and the last shreds of her courage, Harley trailed Arron from the chamber.
14
Leila used her power to translocate the group to the temple, which was situated on a point next to the bay outside the city. As they materialized, he could feel Harley’s gaze on his back, sharp as a laser beam. Soren couldn’t look at her. He was the lowest of scum, not even fit to stand in her presence. Her misery tore into him, but he didn’t dare react. The minuscule part of him that remained good and whole, he’d locked into a small box and hidden away deep inside.
For the moment.
Leila was keeping a close watch on him. Measuring the depth of her new prince’s corruption, savoring her hold on him. And, oh, what a primitive, luscious initiation it had been. Soren shook from craving more, while knowing in his heart that more would never be enough. It sickened and shamed him yet made his blood quicken in anticipation.
Hang on, he coached himself. Just a little longer and the suffering will end.
If he could only get one of the swords, he would fall upon it when this was done.
Soren took in their surroundings, aware of Leila, Arron, and Harley standing behind him. They were at the bottom of a steep incline of steps leading up to the temple. He started up, and the others followed.
At the top, he found the temple to be a huge marble slab about fifty yards square. The roof was supported by ornate white Grecian columns, but three sides were open to the elements. Staring, he found it difficult to imagine that the gods of Olympus would condone an act of evil being performed in such a beautiful place. Then again, the stories went that many of them were selfish and mean.
“Grand ceremonies are held here, honors bestowed on those most deserving,” Arron said, as if reading his thoughts. “Judgments are passed, as well, against those who violate the law of the Coalition. Executions are carried out. The gods typically do not intervene, leaving that duty to the prince.”
“I see.” He nodded.
The fourth side of the temple served as the front and hosted the altar. Clad only in black breeches and boots, Prince Valafar lay bound to the slab, awaiting his fate. Several male guards—Leila’s demon slaves—stood sentry on each end of the altar. On the other side of Valafar, two males had also been stripped to the waist and were chained to the slick marble wall by their wrists, arms over their heads. The one with shaggy, dark blond hair must be Zen, but the other?
He crossed the vast space with quick strides, and his heart skipped a beat as he drew closer. The man’s angular face was a younger version of his own, and wide blue eyes regarded him with a mix of joy and trepidation.
“Soren!” he called. “Boy, am I glad to see you! Are you all right? I got attacked by a werewolf and then rescued by some Valkyrie, and I’m not really sure how I got here. Hey, get us down—”
“Luc, he doesn’t know you,” Zen said gently.
Luc flinched. “He has to recognize his own brother! Tell them, Soren.”
Soren skirted the altar and stepped close to Luc. “I have no brother.”
He steeled himself against the shock, and pain etched on the younger vampire’s face. Time was running out, and he didn’t have a moment to spare for sympathy. Opening himself to the beast, he allowed the lust to flow. The stark hunger.
But he turned from Luc. Even as a beast, he would not slake his thirst on his own flesh and blood. Instead, he moved to the altar and addressed Leila over Valafar’s unconscious form.
“You have the belladonna?”
“Eager, aren’t you, my new prince?” She handed him a blue velvet pouch closed at the top by a drawstring.
“Why wait?” He smiled, hoping she couldn’t see through the ruse. Praying she wouldn’t smell his desperation. “Once he’s dead, we’ll move into his home. I was thinking we’d bring one or two of our slaves here each week and sacrifice them as a reminder to the Coalition of our new rule, our power.”
“Hmm. His home is smaller than your estate. We’ll remain there.”
“Whatever you want, love.”
He was going a bit over the top, but it was easy to see how much the prospect delighted her. In truth, the conjured scenario did something erotic to his groin, and the beast responded. He was playing with fire.
“A wonderful idea, my pet,” she enthused. “You’ll have the right to the first ceremony, beginning with our three captives.”
Harley shrank back against Arron. Luc stared at him in horror, and Zen glared, his face murderous.
“I can hardly wait,” Soren heard himself agree. “Arron, your blade, please.” Arron hesitated, glancing at Leila.
“Go on. Let’s see what Soren has in store for our poor Valafar.”
Arron snatched the blade from his belt and handed the object to him, golden handle first. Soren palmed it, testing the weight. The wolf and his allies had come through. Little did the Gorgon know it wasn’t Arron’s blade at all.
But he had to carry on the ruse just a bit longer.
With lightning speed, Soren grasped the hilt and punched the tip of his very own sword into Valafar’s bare shoulder. The prince came awake, his bellow of rage echoing through the temple. Several of the traitorous guards paled, as much as demons can, and stepped back.
Soren sneered, twisting the blade. Blood welled and flowed from the prince’s wound and the sweet scent of it called to him. No, the darkness couldn’t take him. Not yet.
“I have a snack for you, Valafar,” he taunted, dangling the pouch in his free hand.
“Yeah? Wouldn’t you know, I’m not hungry,” the prince said between pants.
“Too bad. You’re going to eat these berries anyway. Care to guess why?”
“Haven’t a clue, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.”
“Because if you don’t, the pain you’re feeling will be nothing compared to what Zen will get next.”
Soren gestured to the demon in chains. Turning his head slightly, Valafar saw his fri
end, and the fight seemed to leave him.
“If I surrender willingly, Zen lives.”
“Agreed. He lives—as my slave.”
“No! I meant—”
“Too late.” Soren jerked the blade from Val’s shoulder, averting his eyes from the tantalizing blood. Working open the pouch, he extracted several purple berries. “Enjoy them. And while you do, think about me carving your heart from your chest and devouring it for my evening meal.”
He slipped the fruit into Valafar’s mouth. Almost as soon as the prince began to chew, he choked, gasping for breath. Convulsions racked his body and his chest heaved. His struggles slowed until he lay still, eyes staring. Sightless. The whole thing had taken only seconds.
“You bastard!” Zen screamed, thrashing in his chains. “Valafar! No, no!”
“I knew the demon cared for his prince,” Leila scoffed. “Liar.”
Soren tossed the pouch back to Arron, but nonchalantly tucked the sword into his belt. He said a quick, silent plea to whatever god might be listening to have mercy, to please let his plan work fast. If it didn’t, they were all fucked.
Zenon continued to rage, and tears were streaming down Luc’s cheeks. “Oh, gods,” his brother kept saying over and over. “Oh, dear gods.”
Innocent Luc, he thought. The beast grinned and stretched, ready for the showdown.
“Valafar is really dead,” Leila breathed. “I don’t believe it.”
“Arron, secure our little human whore beside these two,” Soren ordered.
“Soren, don’t do this!” Harley begged. She fought the wolf as he chained her, to no avail. “This isn’t you, and you know it! Soren! ”
He approached her slowly, like a cat stalking a mouse, a smile curving his lips. The pulse pounded in her neck as his hands skimmed her shoulders, parted her robe. Auburn hair framed her small face and enormous green eyes. Taut, rosy little nipples puckered. Strained, like his cock.
He lowered his head, flicked one peak with his tongue and swirled the rounded tip. She sucked in a ragged breath, trying to block his assault on her senses, and failed. His fingers slid down her flat belly to the thatch between her thighs and probed her clit. Succumbing to his seduction and heedless of their audience, she spread her legs.
