The Darkest Craving lotu-11

by Gena Showalter

  “Perhaps I wish to buy her.” If she was a slave, she was for sale, special or not. And if he had to go that route to get her out of here and started on her new life, well, he’d consider it a blessing.

  “We will give you anything you desire—except her,” the king said. “I would never sell my own daughter.”

  The queen hmphed with disdain. “Only a fool would want such an ugly, wretched female.”

  Kane scowled at her.

  Disaster was quick with an agreement.

  Wait. Back up. Tinker Bell was the king’s daughter? A princess? But why was she dressed like, treated like—

  Blood. Slave. The words rolled through his mind, and more pieces of the puzzle finally slid into place, little tidbits of information he’d picked up over the centuries drawing together. Tinker Bell was of royal blood, but only partway. Therefore, she qualified to bear the punishment meted out to those in her family.

  Anytime the “real” princess had committed a crime, Josephina had been the one punished for it. She would have endured whippings, beatings, stonings and probably a thousand other things he couldn’t bring himself to consider. That’s why she’d ended up in hell.

  Oh, Tinker Bell. Poor, sweet Tinker Bell. The very things he’d endured during the worst weeks of his life, she had endured for a lifetime. No wonder she wanted to die.

  Kane’s jaw clenched, the only reason he was able to silence the spew of curses brewing at the back of his throat. No, the king would never let her go. Not for any price. Not for any reason.

  I won’t let her go for any price or any reason, either.

  Oh, really? asked Disaster.

  The Fae next to Kane tripped, falling into him, knocking him to the side. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened,” the man babbled.

  Kane straightened.

  “He’s so beautiful. More so than I ever imagined. And he’s just like me!” The princess clapped her hands, exclaiming, “I want him, Daddy. Please? Please! Give him to me.”

  The king stiffened, only to relax a moment later. He eyed Kane with intrigue, the cogs in his brain clearly churning in a direction Kane wouldn’t like. “I do find the thought of our family being joined to that of Lord Kane’s intriguing.”

  No. He didn’t like it. In any other situation, the threat would have enraged him. A rampage would have ensued.

  “You will do us the great honor of wedding our daughter, Princess Synda,” the king said, a statement rather than a question.

  He liked that even less.

  But okay. All right. Kane needed to stay in this realm long enough to plan an escape for Tinker Bell. If he agreed to a wedding, he might be allowed free run of the palace. If he didn’t, he would have to fight the army every second of his stay.

  “Sure,” he said with a nod. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll wed your daughter.” He wasn’t wedding anyone. “But Tink—Josephina can’t be harmed while I’m here.”

  More murmurs slithered through the room. He tried to make sense of the words, couldn’t.

  The king drummed his fingers against the shaft of his scepter. “We would love nothing more than to accommodate your request, Lord Kane, but a crime was committed last night, and a price must be paid. That’s why Servant Josephina is here.”

  “What crime?”

  “Princess Synda was caught with the butcher’s son, a male far below her station. Worse, a human.”

  “Then punish Princess Synda.” Problem? Meet solution.

  A shake of the king’s head, firm and sure. “That’s not how we do things around here, Lord Kane. Since the spawning of our race, blood slaves have helped ensure the well-being of the royal family.”

  “I see.” The blood slaves had also helped ensure the maliciousness of the royal family. “And what’s to be Josephina’s punishment for Synda’s crime?”

  “Servant Josephina will be shunned for one month. Anyone who speaks to her will be killed.”

  Better than he could have hoped. Still, Kane squared his shoulders and braced his legs apart, preparing for battle. “Well, then, we’ve got our first real problem. I’m going to talk to her, and that’s non-negotiable.”

  Crystal eyes narrowed. “Very well,” the king said after a few moments of thought, “but you will be lashed for every word.”

  “What?” someone in the crowd gasped out.

  “No. Not Lord Kane!” another cried.

  “No,” Tinker Bell croaked.

  Kane cut her a sharp glance. Silence.

  She shook her head, dark hair wisping over her shoulders, saying, “Don’t do this.”

  Still looking out for him, even after he’d failed her so miserably. His determination intensified. To the king, he said, “I will never willingly submit to such a punishment.” It would weaken him, and he needed every bit of strength he could summon. “I doubt you can force me—” except for Evil Overload, and his ability, but then, Kane could remove his tongue and that problem would be settled, too “—and the men that try will pay a very dear price.”

  Behind him, a female fainted.

  The princess flattened her hand over her heart and grinned. “He’s so wonderfully fierce. How soon can the wedding be planned?”

  “Excellent question. We’ll make sure it’s done by the end of the month. That gives us ten days.” The king slammed his scepter into the marble floor so forcefully cracks formed in both. “Now. Everyone will return to their duties. And you,” he snarled at Kane. “You will join me in my chambers.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  JOSEPHINA SCRUBBED A rag back and forth over the already-clean upper staircase banister, surprised she hadn’t dimmed...whatever the material was. It looked like starlight and clouds. A chandelier hovered just above her, the rotating streams of opals, sapphires and emeralds attached to nothing but air, casting rainbow flecks in every direction, even the floor many stories below.

  I wish I could jump.

  Stupid Kane. He should have killed her when he’d had the chance. Now, she was going to make him wish he had. Yes. She liked that plan.

  How dare he agree to wed Princess Synda?

  Synda would lie to him, and cheat on him. The girl’s desire always burned white-hot, but died quickly. She would chew Kane up and spit him out, and there would be nothing left of him but bones. Bones Josephina had risked her life to save.

  How could he want that girl? How could he not see beyond her pretty face?

  Stupid, stupid, stupid man! Josephina stomped her foot. Anger was easier than hurt over yet another rejection.

  The moment he’d agreed to the wedding, something inside her had cracked. Dark emotions had spilled out. She’d nearly broken down and sobbed. She’d nearly shouted, “He’s mine! All mine!”

  But he wasn’t hers, and he never would be.

  She, however, might become his.

  Would Tiberius give her to Kane, thinking the warrior would punish her rather than his beautiful new wife when she misbehaved? Would Kane actually punish her? If he did...her nails scraped against the rag.

  I won’t just make him wish I’d died. I’ll make him wish he had.

  Her chin trembled, and she sniffled.

  “I want to talk to you, Tinker Bell,” a masculine voice announced.

  Jolting out of her wrathful thoughts, Josephina realized Kane stood just beside her. There were two guards behind him, careful to look away from her, shunning her properly, all while keeping watch over their charge and listening unabashedly.

  Kane had just spoken eight words to her. Meaning, he’d just bought himself eight lashes of the whip. Josephina wanted him to suffer, but not that way.

  “Go away,” she said, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, just in case.

  “Give us some privacy,” he said to the guards.

  “Anything for you, Lord Kane.” The pair raced to the other side of the hallway.

  “You know you’re not allowed to talk to me,” she said. “No one is.”

  “You want me to waste a few wo
rds telling you I do what I want, when I want? Because I will. I don’t mind.”

  Thirty-two lashes. All for nothing! “Shut up, you stupid man.”

  His lips twitched at the corners, the bout of amusement confusing her. She’d just insulted him, yet he was battling a laugh? I’ll never understand him.

  “Your eyes are back to normal, at least,” she said.

  He patted the skin underneath. “They are?”

  Thirty-four. She nodded, hoping her silence would encourage his own.

  That hazel gaze raked the length of her body, burning her everywhere it touched. Whatever he saw must have angered him, because he ran his tongue over his teeth. “The blood slave thing is the reason you want to die, isn’t it?”

  She gave up trying to count his words, and simply replied. It was his back, his agonizing pain; if he wasn’t going to help himself, she wasn’t going to try and do it for him. “Yeah. So? Why do you care?” You’re an engaged man!

  “I have no desire to see you hurt.”

  And yet, in the past few hours, he’d managed to hurt her worse than all of her whippings combined. “Just leave me alone, all right? You’re not the rock star I thought you were.”

  He flinched. “I’m sorry I disappointed you, but everything I’ve done since finding you in the forest, I’ve done for you.”

  Pretty words, nothing more. He’d seen Synda and wanted her, just like every other man, and it had had nothing to do with Josephina.

  They stared at each other, quiet. He towered over her, as intense and savage as a man could be, and she felt small in comparison...surrounded by his utter maleness. Trapped.

  But what a beautiful cage.

  Her limbs began to tremble. Her breathing quickened, and she noticed he smelled of the forest he’d found her in. Pine and dewdrops, clean and untainted by the cloying fragrances the Opulens preferred. There was no longer any hint of the roses she’d scented in the motel room.

  While on the run, she’d done a little research. Apparently, when an immortal closed in on death, he began to smell like roses.

  How close had Kane come?

  And why did she long to reach out, to flatten her palms on his chest, to feel his warmth and his strength, to assure herself he was here and he was real and oh, sweet mercy, her blood was heating, and her lips tingling, as if preparing for his seduction. He wasn’t her friend or her boyfriend or even a suitor.

  Tensing, he crossed his arms over his chest, clearly expecting her to...what?

  “I don’t know what you want from me, Kane.”

  “That makes two of us,” he replied darkly, anger firing up his eyes. Frustration tightened the skin underneath, and determination pulled at his lips. He stepped forward, and she stepped back, until the banister stopped any further retreat. “Do you know what you want from me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Your absence.” Before I crack.

  “I don’t believe you. I think you want something...I think you want me. The way you look at me sometimes...”

  “No,” she said with a shake of her head.

  “I believe we’ve talked about that look.”

  “I don’t want you,” she croaked.

  “There’s a difference between not wanting a man, and not wanting to want a man. Which is it for you, Tinker Bell?”

  She gulped. There was no way she would answer that.

  Kane placed a hand at her left and a hand at her right, holding her captive. Tremors nearly rocked her off her feet.

  “You make me feel...you make me feel,” he said quietly, fiercely, “and I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

  For the first time in their acquaintance, he frightened her. There was an intensity to him she’d never noticed before, a vibe of uncontrolled danger. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  His gaze locked with hers, snaring her, drawing her in even while pushing her away. “Don’t you?” A thousand caresses in the dark waited in the softness of his voice.

  “I...I...”

  A second passed. Another and another. Neither of them moved. They didn’t speak. Just stared. Somehow, those suspended seconds were more intimate than anything else she’d ever experienced. More...electrically charged.

  She flattened her hands on his rock-solid chest, marveled at the strength he contained. “S-stay back.” His heartbeat was a wild tumult, just like hers. It was a shock. A revelation.

  A pleasure.

  He stumbled away from her, breaking the connection, destroying the electrical charge.

  It was what she’d wanted. But she hated being without it, she realized.

  “What did you and the king discuss?” she asked, trying not to care—but caring anyway.

  “You mean your father?”

  Her shoulders lifted in the most casual shrug she could manage. “I am what he says I am.”

  Kane reached out, as if to caress her cheek. His hand fisted just before contact, and fell away. “We drank some whiskey, smoked some cigars and discussed a few details for an engagement ball to be held in my honor. We played some chess. I won. He pouted.”

  A ball. A ball Josephina would have to labor over. She would be forced to set up, then serve the guests food and drinks. The women would put their noses in the air and ignore her, and the men would forget their distaste for her, pat her on the bottom and maybe even try to pull her into shadowed corners. She would have to paste a grin on her face, and pretend all was well in her very dark world.

  Meanwhile, Kane would be pampering the already pampered Princess Synda. The unfairness of it clogged her throat, making breathing difficult.

  “You’re lucky to be alive,” she said stiffly. “Tiberius is the worst loser of all time.”

  He waved her words away. “Let’s talk about your sister.”

  Already he was obsessed. Jealousy hit her. Jealousy, and so much hurt she wasn’t sure how she was still standing. “What do you want to know?”

  “She’s possessed, yes?”

  “Yes. Her husband was the keeper of Irresponsibility and after he died—”

  Kane’s lips pulled back from his teeth and a hissing sound left him.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, annoyed by an overwhelming surge of concern for him.

  “Her husband was possessed by...Irresponsibility, you said?”

  “That’s right. For several centuries, he was a prisoner of Tartarus. He died while...you-knowing Synda, and somehow she ended up with the demon. That’s why our race has studied you and your friends so intently. Well, one of the reasons.”

  He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “This couldn’t get any worse. William tried to warn me, said I’d have to make choices, but I thought...hoped...and she’s blonde, just like the girl in the painting, and...well, it doesn’t matter. It’s happened. She is who she is. I’ll deal. I’ll figure things out. Somehow.”

  Babbling she had no idea how to decipher. “What are you talking about?”

  Again, he waved her words away. “You studied us, you said?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Us, meaning me and my friends?”

  “Who else?”

  “How?”

  “Are you sure you want the truth?”

  “I am.”

  “Fae spies have followed you guys for centuries. They report back and books are published and sold all over the realm.”

  “Spies,” he said flatly. “Books.”

  “Pictures are drawn. Discussions take place. Fan clubs meet.”

  Though his gaze remained on her, his head dropped, his chin nearly hitting his sternum. “Are you a member of a fan club?”

  “Of course I am.”

  He arched a brow, a command for her to offer more details.

  She did. Happily. “I belong to Touch Me Torin.” She sighed dreamily. “He’s so kind and caring, always protecting those around him.”

  Kane grabbed her by the upper arms, jerking her into the hard line of his body. The moment he realized what he’d
done, he set her back in place, away from him, and lowered his hands, mumbling, “Sorry.”

  I’m not. All that strength...

  Stop enjoying his touch. Stop craving it. He’s not for you.

  “You will stay away from Torin,” he said.

  “But meeting him is the one and only thing I wanted to do before I died.”

  He closed his eyes, as if praying for patience, and inhaled sharply.

  One of the jewels hanging from the chandelier detached and plunged down, shattering on Kane’s head. Cringing, he brushed the pieces out of his hair.

  “Okay, that’s never happened before. Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” he gritted.

  Feeling generous, she said, “Do you want to know the name of your fan club?”

  “Not if you’re not part of it,” he said, an edge to his tone.

  She wasn’t an official member, no. “Just so you know, Synda’s hobbies include backstabbing, causing trouble and ruining lives. You’ll never be happy with her.”

  “She got you sentenced to the Never-ending, didn’t she?” he said. “You. Not her, the keeper of Irresponsibility.” He rubbed at his temples. “That’s how you ended up in hell.”

  He seemed to be talking to himself as much as he was talking to her. “Yes. There are many openings to the Never-ending, and one is actually in Séduire. I was pushed inside, fell down the pit for a thousand years, yet only a day passed here. The bottom is the center of hell, and I finally reached it.”

  “A thousand years,” he rasped. “Another reason you want to die. You don’t want to endure such torture again.”

  Torture. Such a mild word for what had happened. “We’ve all heard the stories about it, but none of them do it justice. In that pit, it’s dark, with no hint of light. Soundless. You can’t even hear yourself scream and beg for help. It’s empty. There’s nothing to anchor you.” She shook her head to dislodge the memories. “No, I don’t want to endure it again.”

  A strange vibration moved through him, as if he were barely holding himself back from an act of violence. He paled.

  “Kane?”

  “I’m fine,” he rasped. And then he shocked her, taking her hand, twining their fingers, holding on to her as if she were a lifeline. The contact only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to make her reel.