Chapter Thirty
It had been several days since Marishka had released him from his hellish prison, and Andor feared he would go as insane as his Mistress if he were forced to stay in the humble dwelling they called home for much longer.
They had taken up residence in an old caretaker’s cottage, and while it provided the necessary protection from the sun, sufficient beds, and other bits of furniture, it was a far cry from the normal grandeur each was used to at the castle. This fact was bemoaned by Marishka day in and day out, and her petulance was grating on his nerves, though he loved her dearly. Even his dark princess was hard to take when she was acting like a child.
His Mistress went through bouts of dementia, melancholy, and temper tantrums that drove him into rage after rage that he could never take out on her, and there was a decided lack of servants on which to vent his anger, so instead, he sat and tended her as best he could, playing the part of both ladies maid and subservient lover to try and appease her.
There were no servants, no visitors, no one from which to feed, except Marishka’s new little play thing. The girl came every night, having slipped from her bed in the servant’s quarters, and would run across the fields and through the woods to where her darling Mistress waited. Marishka always welcomed the girl with open arms, murmuring how sweet she was, how beautiful, how she belonged only to her dark Mistress, all the while asking about the happenings at the castle, and if she’d gotten close to Alliana while at the same time strumming the girl’s body until it hummed with pleasure then biting her inner thigh and drinking deeply, sending the girl spiraling into ecstasy in her Mistress’ arms.
This nightly drama enraged Andor to no end. Marishka had told him from the first that he was not allowed to touch the servant wench, nor was he allowed a drop of her hot blood. Instead, he was forced to sit back in the cramped room of the cottage and watch as Marishka pushed up the girl’s skirts, opened her bloomers, and toyed with her at will. The sight and scent drove him wild and made the blood lust roar through his veins, but no, he was always forced to wait; he was made to treat the girl as someone special, and not the piece of flesh she was.
After their secret informant left, Marishka would often take to whipping him while she danced into a frenzy, the hot blood of the girl pulsing through her veins, and then she would cut him down and make him service her every whim, rutting for hours before she allowed him to go out and hunt. His entire life now seemed in shambles most of the time, but Andor always reminded himself that he could still be chained in the dungeon instead of here with his darling Marishka, and the girl was simply a vital part of their plan, even if he didn’t feel it was right that he couldn’t touch her, and so he took their existence day by day, doing what he had to, to ensure their survival.
At night he would go hunting for the both of them, and bring back some tasty morsel from the village, but these clandestine outings had to be done with the greatest of secrecy. If word got around that there was one who came in the dead of night to whisk away the young ones, Lucian would be bound to set a trap for him. As it was, both he and Marishka hoped that Mikhal’s first in command assumed they had left the area surrounding the castle for fear of Mikhal’s reaction when he discovered Marishka had beaten his precious Gypsy whore.
In the first few hours after their escape, the cottage they were in had in fact been searched, but he had kept Marishka on the move constantly before they had decided to call it home, using his enhanced hearing to detect movement around them before their adversaries got close, and even hiding among the cattle in a barn on the outskirts of the village for a while. His princess had been outraged at the condition of her nightshift after laying in the straw, but he had done all he could to appease her, and remind her that they must try and make sacrifices in order to someday go back and kill the bitch who had claimed Marishka’s rightful place in the castle by Mikhal the Merciless’s side.
And so here they were, Marishka lying in the one bed, he reading by the cold hearth, both waiting the arrival of the servant girl who would bring possible news about the happenings in Arcos Castle. Andor heard her before she placed a timid knock on the door, and rose before being commanded to do so. Yes he was here to serve and protect his dark goddess, but he preferred to keep her menial orders to the minimum whenever possible.
“Your little whore has arrived, Mistress. Perhaps she will be good for something besides a bit of sport tonight.”
“Naughty, naughty boy, Andor. Don’t be jealous Love. Mummy still likes you best. You know the voices told me Hannah is very important to us, and besides, I like her. She’s yummy and sweet.” At this proclamation, Marishka’s eyes lit up, shining bright as candle flames, glowing with anticipation as her tongue darted out to lick her lips.
Andor’s eyes flashed at Marishka’s last comment, and her own danced merrily in response. “Does my boy want a taste of her? Sample her pretty, pretty flesh while mummy makes her quiver and moan. Tsk, Tsk. Not for you. You would tear her apart and then she wouldn’t do as I say. She likes what I can do for her, loves how I touch her and bite her, but you, you are too vicious for my little pet. You would hurt her soft warm skin. Not for Andor, no, no. Not for Andor. Let her in now and watch as mummy plays. If you’re a good boy we’ll play naughty games later.”
Andor flashed amber eyes at his Mistress, outraged by her speech and by her dismissal of his wants and needs. Here he was, taking care of her, seeing to her every whim as best he could under the circumstances, and she had no appreciation. He glared at her, holding steady with his gaze, then looked away when confronted by her pout, contrite and subdued by a mere look from the woman he worshiped. He was hers to do as she wished and they both knew it, and come the time when she ruled the castle, he would be at her side, so if he had to suffer in the meantime, then it was as it must be.
“I shall do just as you ask Mistress, for you know best. Perhaps you are right and Hannah will tell us something new. If not, you will have the fun you deserve. I know it is so very hard for you here, away from your delicacies and grandeur. My poor Mistress has been reduced to living in a hovel and I won’t complain about being at your side to serve you. It is where I belong.”
Marishka swept across the room and patted his cheek lovingly. “That’s my good boy. Go let her in and just maybe I’ll let you have a little bite.”
Andor gave a small nod of his head and took her hand in his briefly, kissing her palm, and then doing as he was told. The servant girl Hannah’s eyes lit up when the door was opened for her, and she went in, straight past Andor without a sideways glance for the vampire, and straight into her Mistress’s arms, bubbling happily that she had been close to their prey yet again that day, and asking if her Mistress was pleased with her.
Marishka had indeed cooed that she was pleased with Hannah’s progress, and began to stroke the girl’s hair as she held her close, kissing her, beginning to love her, as the look of adoration for Marishka that had been on Andor’s face only moments ago faded with the servants and his Mistress’s complete dismissal of him. It was then that he vowed that when they were through with her, Hannah would suffer for daring to treat him as if he were beneath her. Let them play; let his Mistress find gratification and possible answers, but when it was over, the uppity bitch would be his.
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In the four days since Alliana’s beating she had bounced back remarkably well. The bleeding from her womb had stopped immediately; as had the contractions, due to Enid’s powerful medicinal potions, and the salves that Thalia applied daily were doing wonders for her skin. Best of all though, was that she had found her will to live again. Gone was the lethargic woman who had lain in bed unmoving for weeks. Gone was the listless girl who had refused to speak or do anything for pleasure. Those days were over. Alliana now sat up in bed, doing her needlework, chatting with Thalia, and taking great joy in being as insolent as possible to Enid when the midwife came to tend her.
She also took great joy in her pregnancy. It seeme
d as if her belly grew larger daily, and the seamstress, Hannah she thought the girl’s name was, kept having to return for new fittings, but instead of being frightened by the fact as she had been only a week before, she was now excited by the prospect of her son’s impending birth. Whereas before she had had no will to live, no reason to care, and days full of terror regarding her condition, now she had hope and a sense of excitement. Her experience at Marishka’s hands, the feeling of impending death, had given her a renewed vitality for life and an overwhelming joy at the thought of the little one inside her. Whatever he may be, human or beast, he was her son, and she felt a deep abiding love for him.
He was moving now, kicking and rolling, a very active child to say the least, and although she still found it difficult to eat some of her meals, and she had bouts of frightful uncertainties in the darkest hours of the night about carrying a child who was the offspring of the undead, she couldn’t help but feel a mother’s love growing stronger and stronger in her heart for her son every day. It was for this reason more than anything else that she endured Enid’s presence. If it weren’t for her son, she would have refused to see the midwife or even demanded the old witch be banished from the castle. As it was, she was never, ever, left alone with the hag, much to Enid’s dismay.
For her part, Enid itched to slap the blonde Gypsy bitch who dared to talk back and who had been the reason her precious Marishka had fled the castle, but she was never given the chance; even a simple look that could be taken as harsh was commented on by Lucian when Enid made her daily examination of Alliana. Not one look, and certainly not a slap, no matter how insolent the girl became, and it was all Enid could do not to simply leave for good, but she knew that if she tried, Lucian would have her hunted down and dragged right back to the bedside of Mikhal’s whelping bitch. No, she knew she had done wrong when she allowed Marishka to beat Alliana, and now she was doomed to tend her day in and day out, at least until her old friend came home and all the wrongs could be made right once more, so tend the Gypsy whore she would.
All this was done of course under the watchful eyes of Lucian, who was somewhat amazed by the transformation that had taken place in the human his Master called mate. To say he was pleased with her progress would be an understatement, and if he were to be honest with himself, he had to admit that it was more than because her renewed health would bode well for him when Mikhal the Merciless returned.
Her wit and sarcasm in the face of the midwife sent him into fits of laughter on almost a daily basis, which he found almost impossible to conceal. While some scorn of the hag could be done on his part, complete disrespect for his Master’s old friend would not be thought of kindly, especially when he himself wasn’t certain how Mikhal would deal with all of them in the aftermath of what had befallen his wife in his absence, so he thoroughly enjoyed being a spectator when Alliana flayed Enid with her witty tongue.
And so life in the castle went on day by day without the presence of the Lord of the castle. Lucian still had men out searching for Marishka and Andor, but he kept most of the guards close to the castle, preferring to keep Mikhal the Merciless’s insane sister beyond the walls of the castle keep, now that she had chosen to leave. If he were indeed a lucky man, the crazy bitch would turn to dust in the sunshine while dancing to the voices in her head. He had no time to worry over her demise or lack of one for that matter, his job was to sit in Alliana’s chamber and make sure no harm befell even one golden hair on her head. She had recovered from her ordeal and was once again healthy, and Lucian fully intended her to stay that way.
At the moment his charge was sitting up in bed, looking quite radiant if he did say so himself, though he was a bit loathe admitting it. Here he had thought she would be a whiney, frightened, pitiful thing, whom would be a burden to spend time with, and she turned out to be intelligent, lovely, and gracious, not to mention witty and sharp tongued. Lucian was glad on many occasion that she hadn’t turned her barbed comments on him, because he would have been hard pressed to allow the ‘Lady’ to speak to him so, but as of yet he had been able to enjoy listening to her shred Enid’s pride, and had to admit to finding a bit of sport in sparring with her over their different opinions on life or un-life as the case may be.
“You’re staring again, Lucian.” Thalia had left for her chambers a few minutes ago, pleading a rare headache. The girl hardly ever left her Mistress’s side but she had truly indeed looked pale that night, so Alliana had shooed her off after prying the problem from her reluctant lips and promising that she would be fine without her faithful servant.
“Forgive me, Mistress. It wasn’t intentional. The room doesn’t contain any new furnishings; therefore you are the most interesting thing here on which to gaze upon.”
“So am equated to furnishings now?” Alliana’s eyebrows shot up in mock insult, but there was a teasing lilt to her voice.
“No Mistress, you are hardly akin to that chair over there, hence my gaze that you despise so much finds you much more appealing.”
Alliana gave him a small smile and shook her head at his flattery. “Has there been any word from my husband, Lucian?”
“I’m afraid not, Mistress.” At the mention of Mikhal the Merciless, Lucian’s eyes became more hooded than usual, as they did whenever Alliana brought up the subject of the man she was married to. Lucian had refused to discuss where he had gone, how long he might stay away, or what mission had taken him from the castle in the first place and it infuriated her to no end.
“I wish for just one moment that you would be honest with me and tell me of his whereabouts.”
“I am telling you the truth when I say I know not where he might be.”
Alliana stared at Lucian as he stared back at her with his bottomless black eyes that seemed to bore a hole right though her, but she wasn’t backing down. “Then tell me why he had to leave.”
“It is not my job to divulge the business of his Lordship.” Lucian stared at Alliana, noting her flushed cheeks and her fiery eyes, and then saw the way she was rubbing her ever growing belly, and suddenly thought he knew why the Mistress had begun to press him daily for news of her husband. “Mistress, I can tell you that he went away because he is on a mission to make you happier here. He told me that he would be gone a month or two and it has been over a month, so he should be returning home soon if his mission has been a success.”
Alliana’s eyes softened somewhat after Lucian’s disclosure, but she still wasn’t satisfied. Wasn’t it bad enough to be locked up in this castle among the most evil of creatures, having to have a constant body guard to ensure her own husband’s lunatic sister didn’t beat her to death, without having to go through her pregnancy alone? He did this to her. He wanted a son, he wanted this magical baby who was growing too fast and moving so very much that it made her uncomfortable, so why wasn’t he here with her?
The fact that she actually wanted her husband to return was something Alliana refused to look at too closely. She told herself it was because she was tired of being stared at by Lucian, she was tired of feeling as if she had a keeper even if it was for her own good. She let her heart think it was because she feared Marishka and wanted to see her punished for what she had done.
Alliana even went so far as to try and convince herself that having Mikhal home would give her more freedom to move about the castle, but the truth was, she was frightened and mystified, and thrilled about the baby growing inside of her, and hate him or not, Mikhal the Merciless was the father of that child, and he should be with her.
“Is there anything I can do, Mistress?” For some reason unbeknownst to him, it bothered Lucian to see Alliana unhappy. Perhaps it was because he had seen her so lifeless before Marishka had a go at her, or so helpless after she had been beaten. Perhaps it was because he missed the dancing twinkle in her eyes when she was about to saying something witty. Most likely it was because if he were going to be stuck playing nursemaid, then he simply preferred the Mistress to be entertaining rather than weepy. W
hatever the reason, he wished for the sadness in her eyes to go away.
Alliana sighed at his question, then refused to give in to the melancholy that threatened to take hold of her heart. “No Lucian, there is nothing, I’m fine.” She gazed at her needlework where it lay upon a table across the room then scrunched her nose briefly, before turning back to him. “I suppose I should work on my tapestry. It is expected of one in my position.” Her voice was totally void of enthusiasm and it was obvious she found the task of needlework to be dull and not entertaining in the least.
Lucian stared at her a moment. He watched the look of distaste come over her face at the thought of her sewing basket, and an idea suddenly came upon him. It was something that could entertain the both of them, and he thought she just might have a quick enough wit to be able to play.
“I have an idea, My Lady, if you are game.” This time Lucian’s normally black as pitch eyes sparkled, as he issued her the challenge, and Alliana knew at once that no matter what it was, she was up for it. She absolutely loathed the tapestry work that ladies were supposed to amuse themselves with. Anything had to be better than that, and she knew Lucian wouldn’t dare suggest anything improper.
Alliana pushed herself up further in bed, smiling and nodding. “If it will save me from my needles, then I am more than game, Sir. What is this new challenge?”
“It is called chess and it takes a keen mind and a sharp wit to play. I for one am very accomplished. I shall ring for a servant to fetch my board and pieces at once. I must warn you though My Lady, you may find yourself on the receiving end of a good trouncing.”
Alliana laughed at his words, pulling her shawl tightly around her shoulders and pushing herself up in bed, ready to try anything to ease the tedium of her daily routine. Watching from the bed, Alliana eyed Lucian who actually had a small smile on his face, as he oversaw the placement of the heavy chess table and told the servants how to arrange the odd looking pieces. He then instructed one of the men to stoke the hearth while he went to her wardrobe and withdrew a robe and slippers.
Beneath the Shadows of Evil... Taken Page 41
