by Irina Argo
But it was clear that the hyenas had totally lost control. She thought that on some level, they’d heard Anock—they weren’t just rushing at her again—but their pupils were dilated and fixed on Arianna as if Anock wasn’t even there. One took a step forward, and then all three were prowling slowly toward her.
“Get on the floor,” he said, shoving her down between the seats with one hand just as the first werehyena flew at them. Anock’s other hand snapped out and smashed the attacker between the eyes. The were’s skull cracked like an eggshell and bits of brain splattered like jelly across the cabin.
The remaining weres leaped—and then Arianna was jerked violently away from Anock and flattened against the wall by the two Sekhmi. One of them lunged for her vein. She screamed curling herself into a ball just as his fangs found her throat. The Sekhmi sucked in a mouth full of blood—but choked on it, his eyes glazing over, he crumbled to the floor and his head rolled under a chair, his body sprawled in front of Arianna. The last Sekhmi hurtled over the seats but crashed to the floor as Anock’s blast hit him in the center of his back.
Delirious, she stared at Anock, his face and hands coated in blood and a grey substance she assumed had been someone’s brains a few seconds ago.
She began inching her way toward the cockpit, trying to put distance between herself and him.
“You can't run from me.” He snatched her by the waist and lifted her off the floor, bringing her face level with his.
What should she do now? Arianna’s brain was spinning. She had to get ahold of herself. It’s just you and him and the pilots. His bloodlust must be screaming right now. Play your ace.
She threw her arms and legs around Anock and molded her body to his, feeling the blood on her chest slick against his, writhing a little to make sure he could feel it too. His eyes closed and she could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat speed up.
Good. She’d get him to blood-bond with her or she’d die trying.
She took his face in her hands and pressed her mouth to his, caressing his fangs with her tongue. He groaned in response, inspiring her to intensify her attack. Breaking contact with his mouth, she rubbed her lacerated, bleeding cheek against his lips, smearing them with her blood. Surrender, damn you.
Still holding her, he dropped to his knees, laying her in the aisle between the seats, and ripped off what remained of her clothing. The gashes in her naked back screamed in pain. The carpet under her was soggy with still-warm blood, but she didn’t care, all her attention focused on Anock. Get him or you are dead, girl.
His hand slid along her waist, down her hip to her inner thigh. Encouraged, she arched her back, showing off her blood-smeared breasts, and spread her legs slightly. His face covered her solar plexus and his tongue traced the stream of blood up to the wound on her chest.
Then without warning, he recoiled.
* * *
What am I doing? She belongs to the King. Tor loved her and Anock could never betray him. Summoning all his willpower, Anock pulled himself away from her, stood up and reached across the seats to grab a blanket.
“Cover yourself,” he told her, tossing her the blanket.
“Why? What happened? Don’t you want me?”
“No.”
“Anock ... ”
“I said no, Arianna. No. I. Do. Not. Want. You. Got it?” He reached down and spread the blanket over her.
She kicked it back off and then ran her hands across her chest, cupping her breasts, her hands sliding through the blood and making the scent even stronger. If that was possible. “That’s not true. I felt your passion. Please, Anock, be with me.” Trembling slightly, she moved her hands lower, down her side and between her legs. “My body’s made for love, and it’s aching for you. Come to me, Anock. We’re alone here; nobody will ever know.”
She was like a Siren luring him to his death. Anock shook his head violently to rid himself of her spell and walked quickly to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face.
Come back to your senses, Anock, he told his reflection in the mirror. She doesn’t want you. She’s just a desperate female fighting for her life. You can control your urges. Get ahold of yourself.
One more thing, and then he’d be able to refocus on his mission. He went to the small refrigerator in the back of the plane, relieved to find two containers of Amiti blood, He opened both of them and drank deeply, not stopping until he’d swallowed every drop, and then took deep, stabilizing breaths until the blood worked its magic and he felt like himself again. Grabbing the first aid kit and a bottle of water, he returned to the cabin.
Arianna hadn’t moved and was still lying there naked. Now that he was lucid enough to notice something other than the blood, he could clearly see the damage she had done to herself. The cuts looked mostly superficial, but serious enough to need attention, and he needed to take a look at what the werehyena had done to her back.
He got her back into her seat and had her lean forward so he could inspect her back. It looked pretty bad, so he started there, cleaning the wound first with water and then with disinfectant, and then bandaging it with gauze and tape. He repeated the procedure on her front. As he put the last Band-Aid on the laceration to her cheek, he admonished her gently. “You see what you did? Now you’ll have a scar on your beautiful face.”
“Who cares?” She smiled sadly.
Anock wiped the rest of the dried blood from her skin and wrapped the blanket around her.
“Thank you, Anock. You are so kind. How can you be so gentle and so cruel at the same time?”
“Cruel?”
“You killed all of them,” she said, looking at the dead bodies around them.
“If it weren’t for you, they’d still be alive, and you accuse me of cruelty? Why the hell did you cut yourself?”
“Because I can’t go back into that cell. Please, Anock, help me.” Her eyes were pleading. “I haven’t done you any harm; I haven’t harmed anyone. Being there is a living hell. Please, Anock, help me.”
Anock sat down on the seat across from her, contemplating the situation. He didn’t have anything personal against Arianna. During the few short months she’d spent with Tor and the pride, he’d learned a lot about her. She was just a young girl from the California beaches, kind, gentle, and compassionate. She’d had human friends and a normal human life until the Sekhmi interfered. She’d done nothing to deserve what they had waiting for her when she got to Brussels. But as the Queen and a Keeper, she presented a direct threat to his race, and that threat had to be eliminated.
That dilemma was killing Tor, too. The King, ordinarily capable of making even the most difficult choices without blinking an eye, had secluded himself from the world as if spending his days alone, thinking, would help him find a different solution.
If only ... if only Anock could find a way to save her.
“It would be so much easier to save you if you were just a common Amiti. Is there any way that you can surrender your powers as a Keeper and the Queen?”
She shook her head. “Any of the Keepers can surrender their powers to the Queen, but the Queen’s powers are inherited. They’re transferred only from mother to daughter.”
Poor girl. If only she’d just been a regular Amiti, she would have lived the life of a queen—Tor would have given her the world—but because she was born the Queen, she had to die.
He swallowed through the lump in his throat. What should he do? Tell her she was going to be released and then lock her up in a bloodstock cell?
He remembered Tor bringing her down to the cells and slamming the door behind him, leaving her alone in that damn freezing hole like he was tossing her into a grave. He recalled how desperately she had clenched his hand; she hadn’t known where he was taking her. It would stretch the limits of cruelty to put her through it again. No, Anock could not do it. He might be a monster, but he still had a heart.
“Tell me honestly: if I let you go, what would you do?”
/> She looked down at her hands, her fingers stroking the blanket.
“You see? You’re not answering me because you know what you’d do—and you know that I know it, too. You’d destroy my people. You’re the Amiti Queen.”
She just kept stroking the blanket.
“I respect you for that, Arianna. You’re not like the Amiti who live comfortable lives with their Sekhmi mates pretending that the rest of their people don’t exist. That’s the Amitis’ main problem: you each only care about yourself. That’s why you’ll never defeat us. We Sekhmi stand for each other and fight for each other to the death if necessary. Our prides are our fortresses, and we’re an organized force that can unify and strike at any time. That’s what has given Tor the strength to stand for his people over you even though he loves you with all his heart. It might bring you some comfort, by the way, to know that he cried when he left you locked in that cell.”
* * *
She didn’t want to hear about Tor anymore. Not ever again. He’d broken her heart, and that would never change. She just had to accept that; it was beyond her capacity to carve him out of her heart.
What was tearing her apart right now was that Anock was right about her people. There wasn’t any unity among them; no all for one and one for all as there was among Sekhmi. The Amiti philosophy was I’ll take care of myself and the rest of you can go to hell. And that’s why they were in hell. If every Amiti blood-bond, including her mother, had stood their ground, all Amiti would have been free long ago. As the Queen, could she change it? What would it take to unite her people? Goddess, there was so much she didn’t know, so much she still had to learn. If only she had someone wise to mentor her—but she could only think of one person who could do that, and unfortunately, he was her deadly enemy. She had no time for trial-and-error, no time to learn from her mistakes. She had to hit the jackpot right away, or her people would die out completely.
“So you’re putting me back in a bloodstock cell?” She already knew the answer; she just wanted to make him say it to her face.
“Yes.”
“How long are you going to keep me there?”
“I don’t know. It’s up to the King to decide.”
Chapter 73
Four cars and eight Guardians were there to meet them on the tarmac when the plane landed in Brussels. Arianna was wearing one of the flight attendants’ extra uniforms. It was huge on her, but who cared; she’d soon be trading it in for a bloodstock’s.
One of the Sekhmi stepped forward and opened the back door of the second vehicle for Arianna. Anock went around the car and slid in beside her. As soon as the car pulled away, Arianna unexpectedly dropped her head into Anock’s lap.
“What are you doing?” Merciless bitch. She was still playing with him, making it impossible for him to focus on his mission.
His only thought now was to take the car and drive her somewhere far, far away, where she would be secure and safe. Where she could live her life the way she was supposed to, surrounded by people who loved her and with the male she loved.
Anock’s shoulders stiffened. He was a monster and belonged to a race of monsters. After they’d gotten rid of all the Keepers, he’d blood-bond with Cara and then tell her the truth about the monster who dwelled within the depths of his soul. Let her kill him. He’d rather be toast than keep living this fucking life.
“What are you doing?” he repeated, staring at the flowing red hair spilling across his lap.
“I just need to feel someone close. I won’t have a chance to anymore once I’m back in a cell. Can you stroke my hair, please?”
Anock had dealt with hardened criminals; he had tortured and executed people, and he’d never let it get to him like this. What was she doing to him?
“Please, Anock.”
Gently, he put his hand on her hair, feeling the silky texture under his fingers, leaned his head back on the headrest, and closed his eyes. This girl was born for love. Tor would have given the world to be in his shoes right now.
“Anock,” she said softly. “When one person gives something to another with good will, what is it called?”
“A gift.”
“When one person takes something from another without permission what is he called?”
“A thief.”
“A thief is a criminal isn’t he?”
“What do you want from me, Arianna?”
“Why do you Sekhmi choose to steal instead of receiving a gift?”
He lifted her head from his lap. “Stop philosophizing with me.”
“Answer me.” She placed her chin on his shoulder.
“Leave me alone.”
“You don’t want to answer because you don’t know?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know, but I understand what you’re trying to say. Here’s the thing: the Amitis’ gift to Sekhmi is a Trojan horse. That is my answer.’
“You created the problem. This is my only chance to talk to you. You have a heart, Anock. I know it. You hate what you’re doing, and like me, you’re trying to find a solution.”
“We already found one.”
“To kill us?”
“Only the Keepers. We need the rest.”
“This is wrong.”
“No, Arianna. This is right, because if we don’t kill the Keepers, you’ll kill us, won’t you?”
“That’s what I thought at first. But then I realized that would be wrong, to wipe out an entire race. What has come to life has a right to exist and evolve. That is the rule of the Gods, and as the Keeper of Balance, I have no right to interfere with it. My job is to make sure that the balance on this planet is preserved. Earth is a planet of polarities; their constant tension keeps things moving. If one of the opposites is removed from the equation, it will create a dramatic shift and alter the balance of the entire planet.”
“Glad you understand.”
“Yes. I do. That is why I’m telling you that I will not turn the Key—at least not with the purpose of annihilating the vampires.”
“I don’t believe you. But out of curiosity, what is your plan?”
“I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about it, and I feel that an answer will come to me, but I’m running out of time. You’ll kill me, yes?”
Damn, why is the traffic so slow? Move. Anock was losing it; he had no idea how much longer he could deal with her.
“But if you keep me alive and help me, we might find a solution.” She touched his cheek with her lips.
He sucked in a breath. She was a trickster, appealing to him as a male and as one of the vampires’ leaders. Come back down to earth, Anock, she’s playing with you. She’s fighting for her life. Don’t believe her.
The car drove through the iron gates of the mansion and pulled up at the rear entrance, where they were met by three Guardians. One of them approached the car and opened the back door.
“Get out.” He nudged her. “We’re here.”
Arianna stepped out and froze, staring at the magnificent eighteenth-century building, her new prison. “Is this where you live in Brussels?”
“Yes and no. Now move.”
“What is this building, Anock?”
“We’re not here as tourists. Move.” He pointed toward the entrance.
With no warning, Arianna dropped to the ground.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“If you seriously think that I’m walking to prison on my own two feet, you can think again. I’m not going to make this easier for you.”
Anock expelled a heavy sigh, bent down, and lifted her in his arms. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to carry you.”
Arianna cuddled up to him like a lover. It felt like a sword gashing his flesh.
“You feel so good.” She bit his ear gently as he hurried down the stairs with her. “Anock, you’re going the wrong way! Isn’t your bedroom upstairs?”
She was mocking him. “Shut up.”
What he was
doing was wrong. He should be following his soul, not his rational mind.
The door to the cell was standing open and three handlers were ready for her, lined up along the wall of the corridor. Anock brought Arianna in and dropped her on the bed. Just as he stepped through the door, she called to him. “Anock.”
Reluctantly he turned around, his throat tight as if there was a pebble lodged in it. Please, please don’t cry. I can’t survive your tears.
“What?” He swallowed hard.
She didn’t cry, just raised her beautiful eyes to him and said in a small voice like a child’s, “Anock, would you please bring me a kitten? I can’t bear being alone again.”
If a grenade had exploded right then, Anock wouldn’t have noticed; it would have been drowned out by the detonation of the world disintegrating around him. He fled from the basement, pushing aside the handlers and the Guardians, and rushed to his apartment, his mind filled with hatred for his life and for Sekhmet.
* * *
Arianna watched as the door closed behind him. She pressed two fingers between her eyebrows, suppressing her tears. She would not cry. She would not. What was the point? Crying wouldn’t help; it would not resolve her problem. They were going to kill her, she knew it. Her intuition had never deceived her. She had to do something, and she had to do it now.
They might have bled her powers away, but there was one that didn’t drain out with her blood: the power over her blood-bond. For the first time, she was really glad she’d let that filthy pig Khay live. She’d initially agreed to do so out of respect for Serena’s plan, waiting for the signal to obliterate the blood-bonds—and then she’d found a perverse satisfaction in the knowledge that he lived in constant fear that she could kill him at any moment. And now she’d finally found a way for that miserable bastard to make himself useful after all.
She sent Khay a mental image of him burning to death, writhing in agony before dissolving into ashes. I’ll kill you, Khay. You have no control over me anymore. So I recommend that you answer me. Now.
