Dark Amour

by L A Kennedy

  “Neri—” Zylan started. Sid’s hand clamped onto his shoulder and stopped his words.

  Sid leaned in and whispered, “If you were smart—which you’re not—you’d shut your fucking pie hole and listen.”

  Neri paced in front of Zylan, coming to a stop and closing her eyes. “Zy, you are not a Slayer. You are a killer. I will not be with a man who is a killer. You bring me no honor like this. You bring yourself no honor like this. What you are doing is shameful. You are killing for the sake of killing, but, worse, you’re doing this in my name. I won’t have it. I don’t want it. I do not want you like this.”

  Zylan teetered backward, thankful that Sid was behind him. It felt like he had just been shot in the chest, had his heart ripped out then placed in a blender.

  Neri opened her eyes and gave him the soft smile he had grown to know and trust. It told him all could work out.

  She shook her head. “I love you, Zy. I love you more than I knew I could, more than I knew love could be. But I love you enough to leave, to walk away and end your need to avenge me. I love myself enough to not want to watch this happen.”

  Neri turned her back to him. It took her stepping away from him for him to break. He lunged forward and dropped to his knees, grabbing onto her legs and begging her.

  “Please, no. Don’t leave me. It can’t end like this. Please,” Zylan sobbed. “I swear to you, this ends now. I give you my word. I will be the man you want me to be. Please don’t leave me.”

  Neri turned in his grip, lifting his head up to meet her eyes. “I do not want you to be anyone but who you are—the true Zylan-Nefarious Bloodletting. I want you to be a man you can be proud of, someone you’d want your children to be proud of. I want you to be a man of worth and honor.”

  “Just please don’t leave me. Please,” Zylan’s words barely creaked out. The room slowly started to shift. His sight was burry. “I can’t breathe. Oh God, I’m dying.”

  Zylan released Neri and slid to his side, barely sitting up. He pulled at the collar on his shirt, wheezing and gasping for air.

  Neri dropped to her knees beside him. “Zy, you’re having a panic attack. Breathe in through your nose, slowly.”

  He shook his head. “I’m dying, Neri. I can feel it.”

  Neri pulled his head into her lap, as the room slowly stopped spinning. Okay, so I’m not about to die. But the thought of Neri leaving had brought him close enough. Sid helped Neri get Zylan to his bed then he and Amity left them both to sort things out.

  He clung to her for the rest of the night. She’d put her foot down, as he’d seen Des do so many times with Cael. And, like Cael, Zylan fell in line and would do whatever was asked of him. He would have chopped off his own limbs if it meant she would stay.

  To Zylan, love was nonsensical, but it gave him more than he could have ever hoped to have. Love built hope and gave strength. As much of a weakness as love was, it was the biggest weapon he could ever possess.

  Together, with Neri at his side, he felt as if he could conquer the world.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Leaving the Slayers had been easy.

  It’d hurt—an unseen pain unlike anything Amity’s heart had ever felt. But it had been easy. She’d stayed long enough to learn how to fhade and to complete the deeds that would sign her death warrant. She’d waited until Sid was on duty, with plans of returning for dinner with her. She’d waved him off and wished him a fine hunt. Standing in her bedroom with her eyes closed, she’d calmed herself. Her pulse had felt like a bunny’s, trapped in a snare. Her heart had pounded as if it was trying to escape her flesh, to escape the fate she’d chosen. Taking in a deep breath, she’d gone.

  Amity’s return to Sola-Nosfer had not been as soothing as she’d once thought it would be. Being sent into Zy’s world had frightened her. She’d wanted to go home. That had been all she’d been able to think of. Zylan’s world had not been her own. It had been nothing like the life she’d been used to. The smells had made her sick. The sounds had made her skin jump, and reality had been different in the compound. The way they’d all spoken had made her cringe. There had been no order, no respect—nothing that had made her enjoy it there.

  That is, until she’d spent time with Sidriel. Soon, the smells had told hidden stories. Then everything was unique within the walls of the compound. The sounds had turned into music. They had been the songs of a freedom Amity had come to learn that she craved. The way each Slayer had spoken had turned into something she’d looked forward to. The Slayers were all equals. They had leadership, not dictatorship. Everyone had a voice and an opinion. No one was shunned for speaking their mind. More than that, they would ask each other to speak up, including herself. Even when she’d spoken out against her mate, she’d not been beaten. She was respected. The world of Zylan was a world of chaos and kindness, deadly but beautiful, like a rose with thorns. Leaving that world had her feeling like she’d left half of herself behind. She’d left the best parts of herself on the floor of her bedroom there.

  Amity stood in front of the throne of Sola-Nosfer, trying to calm her raging pulse. She knew this would be over soon. King Rhival-Enmity Bloodletting and Vestal Virgin Queen Zylamon-Vhenom Bloodletting both looked down on her from their grand thrones. The judging eyes of her sovereigns were nothing like the heat coming from her birthing parents. Her father, Vhenom-Ash Blooddawn, a High Councilman, and her mother, Ayla-Dhemise Blooddawn, Vestal Virgyn, stared at her with looks of disgrace and disgust.

  Amity knew she’d brought them all shame. Her actions had tarnished her family’s name. Her death would be the only way to atone for the dishonor. The part of her that she’d left behind would have fought for her life and her freedom. To the death, she would have clawed her way back. The Slayers had taught her many things. Fighting tooth and nail, even though she might lose, was one of them. But she’d made a promise. She would find a way out of this—for Zylan and Neri. This is the difference between doing what is right and saving ass, to borrow a term from Sid.

  Amity stood in her usual gauze gown, her bare feet poking out from under the hem. Her toes made her smile, but not enough for anyone to notice. She’d never risk that. But inside, she was smiling ear to ear. Seeing her toenails painted a pale pink with sparkles reminded her of Sid and how he’d given her a pedicure while waiting for her transformation. The memory had solidified her reasons for standing in front of her king and queen, shunned by her people.

  The Vestalis Maxima, Phain, with no last name—the overseer of all Vestal Virgyns—stepped forward, her gaze on the floor. “Sire, we have inspected the Vestal Virgyn, Amity. It is true. She is of ruin and corruption. She has broken her vow of chastity and has bedded a male. This male, by her account, was not her mate, the prince.”

  “Amity-Rhuin Blooddawn,” the king finally spoke. His voice, filled with hateful anger, made her ears twitch. “You bring shame to your sacred station, and you have allowed your inner fire to extinguish. The punishment, under law, will be scourging, followed by entombment. May the mighty Orygin have mercy on your soul.”

  Amity didn’t lift her head. No one looked directly at the king or queen. To do so would be considered an insult. She was not their equal. No one was. She didn’t have a voice here or an opinion, and no one ever disagreed. She simply nodded. She’d known what her punishment would be. She’d known she’d be lashed until her bones shone under the moonlight. Her bloodied body would be tossed inside the white marble tomb, which would be sealed up after her. A small ration of food and water would be provided. She’d seen this done before. The Vestal Virgyn would survive for about a week. Once dead and gone, the people of Sola-Nosfer would clean the tomb out, open it up and keep it as a warning for the others.

  “Do you have any final words?” Queen Zylamon-Vhenom Bloodletting asked.

  Amity thought for a moment. What could I possibly say?

  “Your grace, it was an honor to have served your son, Prince Zylan-Nefarious Bloodletting.” She knew she should have sto
pped there, but that was not what her time with Zy had taught her. Go to your death with pride, with honor and with a set of balls that will choke your killers. “He is a fine male, and through him and his warriors, I have found my worth. You may take my light and extinguish the memory of who I am within these walls, but you will never remove what I have given, for him—for his love and for his future.”

  Before she could continue, the king pounded his hand on the arm of his grand, wooden throne. “Enough!”

  With her spine straightened, she lifted her head, looking him dead in the eyes—eyes that once were as kind as she remembered Zylan’s to be.

  “Sire, I agree— enough. I have had enough. I am a being and not your dog to kick. I am no one’s dog,” Amity said. Her voice was as strong as it had been the very first moment she’d stood tall against Zylan. “Allow me to walk with my head high to my death, for I will not go with my tail tucked between my legs, my King. I will not become another one of your victims. Whether you wish to acknowledge my worth or not, I am more than that.”

  Everyone in the room sighed in awe. Had they not planned her death already, she would have been struck down and slaughtered on their pretty marble floor. Being a Vestal Virgin, she knew they could kill her in only so many ways. But the king would be tempted. She knew how badly he wanted to take out a knife this very moment and carve out her still-beating heart. She could see it in his eyes.

  Amity bowed but caught the queen’s eye. The queen hid her surprise and pride from everyone but Amity. Amity knew those governed emotions all too well. Amity knew the queen had wanted to stand up to the king many times, but she couldn’t risk leaving her children in the hands of that monster. Amity had watched the queen, always on the verge of opening her mouth and standing up to the man she was forced to call her mate.

  Amity followed the Vestalis Maxima, with her head held high, toward her own demise. Amity didn’t lower her eyes as she was tied to a post in the middle of the town square for all to watch. With her arms secured above her head, she looked up at the stars and smiled. With each lash that landed on her flesh, she kept her smile. The pain was incredible, but the knowledge of her sacrifice made it less, in some way. The king could command that the lasher strip the meat from her bones, but he’d never remove her sacrifice or her love.

  Amity slumped into the post. Held up with the ropes at her wrists, she had remained conscious throughout the first punishment. She’d pushed her hips into the wooden post and had dragged her body to standing. She did as she had watched Riam train the others to do, breathe past the pain. He would tell them, ‘ Pain is not your enemy. Pain is your friend. Pain lets you know you are still alive. Pain reminds you that you are still in the fight. Pain is only temporary. Death is the only absolute.’

  They removed the ropes binding her wrists. Her arms flopped to her sides, and two men stepped up to drag her to her entombment and ultimate death.

  “Unhand me. I will walk under my own steam. I’m not an animal to be packed after a hunt,” Amity called out, her voice cracking under the pain. Her chin trembled, and her vision was blurred from tears, but she would be damned before she allowed her lashers to drag her to the tomb.

  “Let her go!” the queen yelled from across the courtyard. “If she wishes to walk, she will walk.”

  Dizzy, Amity shuffled through the crowd, arms held out for balance. She held her head high, painfully, but, nonetheless, it stayed up. She would not dare drop her eyes to the ground. She was a being, with a soul, who would not crawl or beg for mercy. Her mercy would come in the arms of the Orygin. It would come in Elysium. Sid had told her stories of home. The thought of the fields of flowers removed just enough of the pain for her to make it to her tomb.

  She risked one look back, to the queen. “I forgive you, my Queen.”

  Queen Zylamon-Vhenom Bloodletting, who was a pillar of schooled emotions—never to recoil or flinch, never to show even the faintest of sentiment—closed her eyes. The moonlight lit the path of tears rolling down her pale cheeks. She placed both hands over her heart and nodded.

  Amity stepped into her tomb, a white marble box, small holes drilled up near the top of the walls for air. Candles were lit, sitting on little slabs placed in the marble as shelves. She took a seat on the only bench in the middle and watched as a marble slab door was pushed into place. The farthest wall held food, water, blankets and extra candles.

  The scourging held one main purpose, and it wasn’t just to inflict angry pain. The pain would create an inability to fhade. When she had no energy and was filled with too much pain, she could not fhade to escape it. But, as a precaution, the room held the smell of herbs, also used to ward off the use of abilities.

  Amity looked around her last home and thought, It could be worse. Sid had spoken about some of his apartments that would make this place look like a godsend. The last one, in particular, had rats the size of small dogs that would nibble on his toes and fingers while he was passed out in a drunken stupor. She could have done without the claw marks on the marble, but still, it was better than flesh-eating rats. Those would have made her scream and try to claw her way out of here, as the last Vestal Virgyn obviously had clearly tried.

  Amity wished she’d spent more time with Sid. He was broken inside. Her leaving would be one more wound he would suffer. But he would have known, in his own way, that she wouldn’t be home when he got back. When Sid had been getting ready to go out, he’d kept pausing and staring at her. Before leaving, he’d hugged her, long and hard. His goodbye had been final. It had given her the strength she’d needed to fhade. Even though he’d made plans for her dinner, they were half-hearted, as if he’d known she wouldn’t be there to eat it. He’d known she wouldn’t be back, and she knew it’d hurt him to know he couldn’t interfere with her path. His gift was his biggest curse—to know an outcome and not be able to change it.

  Painfully she moved to the back of the tomb, making a bed from the blankets and curling up on the ground. She let the pain take her over and push her into a deep sleep. She could do nothing more than wait for her death. She would face it without fear. She looked forward to Elysium and all of its freedom from pain and anguish.

  * * * *

  Coming to a dead stop, Zylan could barely breathe. His chest felt tight, like someone was twisting it in their fists. Shaking his head, he put his hand on a tree for balance. Zylan and Sid had been out all night on hunts.

  “You solid?” Sid asked, standing in front of Zylan.

  Zylan shook his head back and forth. “Something’s wrong, Sid, and don’t say it’s a panic attack. Something is fuckin’ wrong. I can feel it in my goddamn bones. Don’t you feel it?”

  Sid nodded, but gave no clue as to what the hell was going down. “Perhaps we should head back?”

  “Neri!” Zylan screamed. The thought that someone was wrong with his Fyrvor had lit a fire under his ass.

  They were twenty minutes out, and he was booking it as fast as he could. Sid wasn’t chasing behind him. He was walking at his usual Sid speed. Sid didn’t chase after fate. Zylan didn’t stop to ask questions or slow his own pace. Unlike Sid, Zylan didn’t have all the time in the world.

  Pushing the front door open, Zylan screamed for Neri. He had to see her, had to make sure she was all right. As Zylan was coming into the hall, Neri was stepping out of the bedroom, her eyes red and puffy.

  “What happened? Who did this to you?” Zylan asked, pulling her into his chest.

  Part of him was relieved that she was only crying and that it wasn’t something worse. But seeing her didn’t end the tightness in his chest.

  “Amity… She’s gone. She left,” Neri whispered, still crying. “I was going to get her to watch a movie with me, and I found a letter on her bed.”

  Zylan jerked back, grabbing the letter from Neri’s hand.

  To my closest friends,

  It is an honor to think of you all as my friends. I’ve never truly had a friend, until now. I thank you all for your time and care
. I have returned to Sola-Nosfer. I return with a fate that will offer freedom to my Prince and his love, the dearest Neri. I would die one thousand deaths for your love of each other. I thank you for sharing this love with me. It is more than I could have ever prayed for and more than I’ve ever been gifted.

  To my dearest Sidriel, Sid… You have taught me how to be strong, how to be a being. Always remember, you too are a being. Thank you.

  Loving you all is what will carry me to my end. Don’t be foolish and come for me, as I know you all will wish to. I give myself for your freedom. Please do not allow my sacrifice to be in vain. Allow me this last wish, my dying wish. Allow me true peace and freedom.

  Loving you all so dearly,

  Amity, no longer a Vestal Virgyn. I am finally free.

  Zylan turned to face Sid, who was now leaning against the entrance to the hallway. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew she was leaving, and you said nothing!”

  Sid didn’t respond. There would be no point and nothing that he could possibly say to ease the pain Zylan was feeling.

  “The only way she could be entombed is if she gave herself to someone,” Zylan snarled, stepping closer to Sid. “What did you do?”

  “I did what she asked of me,” Sid replied.

  Zylan saw red, and he hit Sid with everything he had, square in the jaw. The fallen Watchyr did nothing to protect himself. Zylan rode Sid to the floor, swinging and connecting, over and over, landing blow after blow. And each time Sid did nothing to stop Zylan or to block the blows.

  “You killed her!” Zylan screamed into Sid’s face. “You couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, could you? You couldn’t fuckin’ wait!” Zylan stood, kicking Sid in the ribs. “You piece of fuckin’ shit!”

  Neri tried grabbing onto Zylan to pull him back, but Zylan was like a bull in a china shop. Each time she would grab him, he’d take her with him. She stepped back and shoved off from the wall, tackling Zylan around the waist and bringing him to the floor.