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For You, I Will

Page 11

by Georgia Lyn Hunter


  “What the hell did you do?” Blaéz snarled, shoving into the arsehole’s head, but his weakened ability just bounced off. Pain churned in his skull, his own brain felt like it might explode from the pressure.

  “Nothing much. I had a sample back at the castle, testing out my new appearance—she likes it rough.” Smirking, Finnén sauntered out, shutting the door behind him.

  Darci—wake up! Blaéz bellowed through their mind-link, but it got lost in a fog in his head because of whatever he’d been given.

  His focus remained pinned on the monitor. The bedroom door opened. Finnén entered and kicked it shut. He strolled to the bed and dropped to his haunches near Darci, his gaze drifting over her slumbering form. He reached out and stroked her hair. “Wake up,” he crooned. He glanced at the camera, straight at Blaéz. “What is it you call her? A leannan?”

  Snarling, Blaéz yanked at the cables. His flesh stung, and a sticky wetness coasted down his hands, but it barely registered, his entire being fixed on his sleeping mate.

  The enchantment Finnén had her under appeared to fade. Darci stirred awake, and when she saw him, the smile Blaéz loved lit her face. “It’s not me, mo chridhe,” he whispered, his chest squeezing in pain, held helpless in the basement, trapped by the godsforsaken chains. “It’s not me…”

  He tried to mind-link with Týr but hit a wall.

  Darci sat up and pushed back her heavy fall of hair back. Her movements accentuated her full breasts in the fitted maroon dress with its low neckline, drawing Finnén’s attention. “What happened?”

  “You fell asleep on the couch.” His voice lowered huskily, and he stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “I didn’t want to wake you, so I put you to bed.”

  “Oh…I don’t remember.” Her wary gaze darted around the room. She shuddered and rubbed her arms. “What time is it?”

  “Midnight.”

  “Can we go home now?”

  “Not yet. We have to stay a little while longer until I’m sure it’s safe.”

  A tiny V formed between her eyebrows. “Did you find your brother?”

  Finnén sighed. “Hopefully soon. When I’m done, he’ll beg for death.” He slanted a knowing smile toward the camera again. “Now, no more talk about him.”

  Blaéz jerked at the cables, but the steel ropes remained steadfast, cutting deeper into his wrists. More blood dripped from his wounds.

  Finnén sat on the bed and angled his mouth to Darci’s. An unmitigated roar of pain and fury tore free from Blaéz. Darci, you know it’s not me. You have to know!

  “Wait.” She pulled back from Finnén. Thank, Christ! A smile brightened her face. “So, you’re conceding?”

  No, no, no!

  “What?” Finnén frowned.

  “Our deal. The abstinence?”

  “Yes-yes, of course.” He dragged his lips down her jaw to her mouth and put his hand on her thigh where her dress had ridden up. Finnén smirked into the camera.

  No! Agony cleaving his chest apart, he yanked hard on the cables, the cuffs cutting deeper into his flesh. Blood flowed. A sharp spike of power shot through him, striking the walls in a crackle of power. A bolt hit the screen, and the transmission lost its signal, then the energy slammed back into Blaéz, sending him crashing into the wall.

  Týr—Aethan! he bellowed through their telepathic-links. Where the fuck are you?

  Chapter 11

  “Blaéz, wait, wait!” Darci pushed against his chest, stopping him before he lowered her to the bed. Something wasn’t right. He appeared too distant. Earlier, she’d brushed it off as him being worried about Finnén. But now he would give up on the bet, a mere two days before the wedding?

  He sat up and glowered. “What?”

  She ignored his rudeness and smiled. “Nothing. I’m just wondering what kind of punishment I’ll mete out to you.”

  “Punishment?” He shot to his feet, fury transforming his usually handsome features into a visage of violence. “Don’t you ever use those words on me!”

  Her smile dropped, her stomach tensing in wariness. She’d never seen him this way, filled with bitter anger. Darci got to her feet and straightened her dress. “Blaéz?”

  He didn’t respond and continued pacing, digging his fingers through his clipped hair as if he wanted to pull the strands out of his scalp. His mouth thinned into a harsh line.

  Blaéz, she mind-linked to him. What’s wrong?

  And nothing. Yet he was right here in front of her. Her stomach knotted, dread escalating. She didn’t care that the image in front of her looked like Blaéz. This isn’t my mate.

  “Who are you?” she whispered.

  He pivoted to her, a savage flash of victory animating his eyes. “Finally.”

  A wave of his hand, and his short, dark hair became lighter, lengthening to brush his shoulders. Blue eyes turned gray, and his build grew leaner.

  Horror swept through her like a windstorm. “Finnén.”

  “Indeed, it is I.” His insolent gaze raked down her body and back up again. He strolled to her. “I never expected you to taste so good.”

  “What?” Her lips formed the word.

  “Don’t you remember our lovely little kiss outside the castle? I knew you couldn’t tell the difference then.” He chuckled, stroking her cheek as she stood there frozen in shock. “And since I promised the servant a show to remember, I am going to fuck you, at least now I know I’ll enjoy it, too.”

  Her heart crashed against her ribs, terror breaking through her paralysis. She shoved his hand off her face. “You will never be even a smidgen of what he is, you bastard! What have you done to him?”

  Darci didn’t even see him move. A sharp crack resounded. Her head snapped back, and she fell onto the bed, the pain stinging her cheek and rebounding in her skull.

  “Never blaspheme me!”

  Her face burned as if on fire. A sticky wetness trailed from the corner of her mouth. Despite the fear riding her, Darci scrambled off the mattress and stood. The room spun. She grabbed onto the nightstand and swiped the blood from her lip with the back of her hand.

  Finnén ambled closer, a sneer on his lips.

  Blinking away her tears, Darci cautiously took a step back. He had Blaéz trapped somewhere, probably unconscious. That must be why he wasn’t answering her.

  “There will be no wedding—a wedding?” He taunted with a sneer. “I cannot believe the depths my brother has sunk to. But that’s all taken care of. I took on his glamour and negated all the arrangements you made for the flowers, the cake, the caterers—everything. Told them to throw it all away.”

  She dashed at her wet eyes and glared at Finnén. “What did you do to him?”

  He ignored her question and stepped closer, his expression darkening with covetousness. “Remove your dress, or I’ll tear it off.”

  Darci had to force herself not to retreat again. Assholes like this dickweed seemed to thrive on fear. “Touch me, and I’ll kill you.”

  He laughed. His eyes turning to gray stones as he reached for the front of her dress.

  Her teeth clamped down, Darci summoned her obsidian dagger. A wave of relief rolled through her when the cold hilt materialized in her palm. As he grabbed the scooped neckline, she pulled back her arm and, putting all her weight behind her aim, she slammed the blade into his sternum.

  Finnén stumbled back, shock widening his eyes. “You bitch!” His fist lashed out.

  If she thought the slap earlier had hurt, the punch he landed in her belly sent her crashing to the floor and curling up into a ball, unable to breathe—so sure she’d die at the agony spreading through her.

  Swearing a blue streak, Finnén jerked the blade free from his chest and flung it aside. He tore his shirt open and glared at the wound near his heart, which didn’t self-heal as fast as it should have if ordinary metal had been used. She was so fucking glad for that, at least.

  When she felt she could pull air into her lungs again, she pushed up from the floor and leaned a
gainst the bed. And stared blankly at her bare feet. He’d taken her boots, too. Asshole.

  “Every time you hurt me, you will pay, keep that in mind.” He loomed over her, his expression flat. “Just so you know, I have his lockup outfitted with a closed-circuit monitor. He’s watching everything.”

  “W-why do you hate him?” she whispered, wrapping her arms around her sore ribs.

  “Because he’s a blight on my life. Everything is always about him—”

  Suddenly, he stilled, his furious expression morphing into one of irritation. His cold, gray eyes came back to her. “You have a short reprieve, human. I am needed elsewhere. Don’t try to leave this place. If you do, he will pay with blood.”

  “I will find him, and he’ll kill you for this!”

  “Very well.” He brought his booted foot down hard on her ankle.

  Bones shattered. Her cry lodged in her throat, excruciating pain splintering through her leg and mind. Tears dripped down her face. Darkness hovered.

  He squatted before her. “You have free run of the house—ah, well, you can try, if you still think to look for him.” As if to point out why, he pressed a finger on her purplish, mottled ankle, and she screamed. Oh, God—oh, God!

  In some part of her pain-drenched mind, she faintly wondered why the bones hadn’t pierced through her skin.

  “When I get back, I’ll heal you…if you behave.” He rose and vanished from sight.

  Darci shut her eyes, so tempted to let oblivion take over so she didn’t have to live this anguish—no! She had to find Blaéz.

  Panting hard, she grabbed the edge of the bed and tried to push up from the floor on her good foot. Just that tiny movement, and she fell back onto her bottom, trying to breathe through the unending agony.

  Blaéz, she cried, mind-linking with him again. Silence. Oh, God, please, please let him be all right. After everything he’d endured while trapped in Tartarus, she refused to let anything happen to him again. He had to be close, and the only reason why Finnén had broken her ankle.

  Adrenaline pumping, she dashed the back of her hand across her wet face. A quick look around the room revealed no sign of her evening purse with her cell phone. A house this size had to have a landline.

  Teeth gritted, she dragged herself on her bottom to the foot of the bedframe. More tears flowed at the pain ripping through her smashed ankle. There, at the bottom of the chest of drawers, was the landline phone…smashed to pieces.

  A shattering despair settled like lead inside her as her last hope to call for help gone.

  Finnén would be back any moment, and the brief happiness—the life she had with Blaéz—would be over.

  Broken sobs escaping, she leaned against the mattress and squeezed her eyes tight at the hopelessness of her situation.

  So many regrets seeped through her. Missing out on the last few days of intimacy with the love of her life because of the stupid bet. Leaving her family behind. Not giving Nora a chance when she apologized—Nora!

  She’d said to call if Darci ever needed her, but how? She didn’t have a cell. Christ, she rubbed her temple, a thought hovering in the periphery of her mind like a wisp of smoke, something crucial about her friend that she ought to remember, but it slipped through her grasp again. She had to find her evening purse and cell—

  Of course! The Guardians’ had talked once about demon summoning and using their true names because they held power. And her friend was a demoness. Hope surged.

  “Nora, please-please help me!”

  A few seconds passed and nothing. Despair choked her—

  No, wait, that wasn’t her proper name. And a demon had to be called three times.

  “Evernora, I summon you,” she rasped, then again. “Evernora, I summon you.” And again. “Evernora, I summon you—”

  In an agitated swirl of furious sulfuric green smoke, a form took shape. “Dammit,” Nora snapped. “I swear, I’m gonna kill you, cousin—Darci?” Shock widened her brown eyes, and she dropped to the floor, her fingers gently touching Darci’s face. She swiped away the blood. “What happened? You’re bleeding.”

  “Help me. Please,” she choked out. “You have to find Blaéz before Finnén comes back.”

  “Who?” Nora frowned, looking around the place.

  “Blaéz’s brother.”

  Nora’s dark eyes cut sharply back to her. With a grim nod, she picked up Darci, and she cried out at the unbearable agony tearing through her leg.

  “By the dark gods!” Nora quickly settled her on the bed as if she weighed nothing more than a leaf and then ran her palm lightly over Darci’s swollen ankle. “Hades, how did this happen?”

  It took her several gulps to speak past the pain. “He shattered it so I couldn’t leave.”

  “The asshole! He beats up females and thinks he’s all-powerful?” Her expression dark, Nora laid her hand over the damaged bones. Warmth flowed through Darci’s injured ankle.

  “No—wait.” She grabbed her friend’s hand. “Later. Find Blaéz. Finnén will come for me first. At least Blaéz will be free.”

  “Dars…” Nora winced. “Your pain cuts through me, and it’s unendurable.” Her lips tight, she continued with the healing.

  Her heart thudding in fear, Darci inhaled deeply as the pain in her ankle dulled and faded, blessed relief finally taking over.

  A moment later, Nora removed her hand and then she touched Darci’s sore lip. “There, good as new.”

  Darci cautiously moved her leg, no shooting agony. Gingerly, she pushed to her feet, and it was as if her bones had never been broken. But, crap! She pressed a hand to her bruised ribs, her breath escaping in a rough pant. Ignoring the dull ache there, she hurried for the door.

  “Is there anything I should know about this Finnén?” Nora asked, flanking her.

  “He’s a law-keeper, so he probably has other abilities.” Darci stopped in the living room.

  “He is?” Nora’s brow furrowed. “No matter, I’ll deal with this. But you should go outside, wait in the trees edging the property. The spell shielding this house doesn’t extend that far. And it’s safer since Finnén would come here looking for you.”

  “No—” She shook her head in panic. “You don’t understand, Blaéz saw everything Finnén did to me. I have to be there when we find him so he can see I’m all right.”

  Sighing, Nora nodded.

  “Can you sense him?”

  “No…” Nora’s brow furrowed. “This entire level appears empty, no signs of life. He probably used a shielding spell inside, too…” She trotted off toward the kitchen, the slap of her steel-toed boots on marble echoing in the quiet, and opened a door between the pantry and the garage. Stairs led down into darkness.

  “The basement,” Darci whispered.

  “Yes. Stay behind me.” Nora took the stairway down.

  Her heart in her mouth, Darci followed, musty air crowding her nose. As she stumbled into the dimly lit place, her gaze darted to the far side and her heart twisted in horror.

  There, in the back, Blaéz sagged against the wall, head lowered. Then she saw the chains restraining him, his bloody wrists revealing how hard he must have fought to free himself.

  “No—” She sprinted to him on her bare feet, barely able to breathe at the raw pain hammering inside her at seeing him like this again. It took her back to her childhood nightmares of Blaéz being restrained and whipped—a past that still haunted him.

  “Oh, my love.” She stroked his stubbled jaw. “It’s me, I’m here now.” Her gaze dropped to the fetters and his gore-drenched hands…dear God! The skin was rubbed raw, the wounds still open, but they had stopped bleeding. Her jaw clamped down, fury sweeping through her. “I swear on all that’s holy, I will kill Finnén for hurting you.”

  A groan escaped him. He lifted his head and blinked those beautiful cobalt blue eyes. “Darci?”

  Overcome, she nodded, tears crowding her eyes, and she hugged him tightly, careful not to jar his injured wrists.

&
nbsp; Nora touched the chains and cursed, “Darn it to Hade’s spawns, these cables are spelled.”

  Right before Darci’s eyes, Blaéz’s features morphed into a cold, detached expression. One that scared all hell out of her as his focus latched on to Nora. “Maloch’s sibling.”

  Her friend sighed and blew her green-streaked bangs away from her face. “Unfortunately.”

  “She saved me,” Darci hurriedly explained. “I didn’t know what to do when I realized the truth and you weren’t responding to my mind-link, so I called her,” she ended on a whisper.

  “May I?” Nora nodded at his wrists. “I think I can undo the invocation on those cuffs.”

  A pulse throbbing on his jaw, he lifted his hands, but instead of letting Nora undo the spell, he yanked hard.

  “Blaéz—don’t!” Darci cried, so sure he’d rip off a hand. Blood flowed again.

  Another vicious tug, and a sharp clang ricocheted as the manacles fell apart, plummeting to the ground.

  “It broke,” she gasped, eyes wide, struggling to breathe again.

  Nora frowned. She picked up the broken cuff and stroked the shattered edges. “The spell here is quite faint, but that’s silly. A rather pointless way to hold an immortal hostage, I’d say.”

  Darci’s gaze rushed to Blaéz as he studied the other manacle. “Did you know?”

  He gave a terse nod, his jaw rigid. “I sensed the weakness—” He went deathly still, eyes narrowing as he looked at up. “Darci, go to the other end of the basement. Don’t leave there for anything.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Now!” he snapped.

  She froze, hurt spreading through her like someone had taken a knife and sliced at her heart. Nora grabbed her arm and sprinted off to the other side, pulling her along. “Another immortal—the brother, I’m sure.”

  Darci bit her lip, her gaze flicking to the stairs as another thought burrowed through her mind like a virus, one that had her forgetting her hurt and fear. Oh, no—oh, no! She swallowed hard.

  Had Blaéz seen Finnén kiss her? Seen him touch her?

  She rapidly searched the gloomy place for the monitor, and at the sight of the CCTV suspended on the wall opposite him, crackling with fuzzy lines from its lost signal, her stomach heaved. No, please... Her gaze rushed to Blaéz, and she found him watching her from where he’d restrained himself again. The dark anger in his eyes—oh, Lord! Of course, he had.

 

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