His lips softened as he deepened the kiss. All I could feel was him. His warmth, his touch, his Magic was caressing my back. He begun nuzzling my neck with delicate kisses, so faint, they were whispers. I urged myself to push away but I couldn’t.
“Arina.” He whispered each syllable as if to savour them.
My name had never been something extraordinary until it came from his lips. His hands trailed gently under my shirt, the delicate touch demanding. My sweatshirt was pulled over my head and forgotten on the floor. He captured my lips again. I drew my tongue over his mouth and swallowed his moan of pleasure. His hair had grown out some and I relished in finally burying my hands in the soft lengths. My teeth nicked his lip, and the coppery taste of his blood filled my mouth. My power roared to life and mingled with his.
I whimpered in pleasure.
His life force was so clear to me. I could see it in his chest, the flame bright and white, fueling his beautiful Magic. Strangling the last of my concentration, I crafted a healing rune. I had no idea if the effects of the potion would be negated, but tried, nonetheless. It had been a long time since I had used someone else’s blood to power my runes, and never someone as powerful as Luka. It would be so easy to lose myself in the moment. I wanted to. I needed to be overwhelmed by his power. It was pure agony knowing that this would be the first and only time. My chest squeezed for something that might have been if we had been born two normal Mages. But we weren’t. He was the Hunter and I was a sorceress.
Luka rolled so his weight was barely resting on top of me. The wonderful feel of his body left me barely enough concentration to activate the rune. He drew back, his mouth leaving mine. I lamented the loss of contact. Resting on his elbow, he swiped under my eyes collecting the moisture that had pooled there.
“Did you want me to stop?”
I almost wanted to laugh. I had never wanted anyone as badly in my entire life. He stifled a yawn. The potion was working. Frantically I shook my head and pulled him back toward me, smashing his lips to mine. My hands roamed his body desperately, clawing at his bare skin. I needed more of him. There was no time left for words. There was no time left. The exhaustion that had weighted me down only minutes ago had lifted, the healing rune worked. I felt better than I had in a long time.
With renewed strength, I rolled to sit on top of him. I kissed down his neck and to his muscled chest. Goosebumps rose on his perfect skin. Luka grabbed my arm, stopping me. The spell was broken. I covered my breasts, suddenly awkward. He gently tugged at my hands, his strength gone.
“I’m just so…tired,” he slurred, his eyes glazed.
I let him pull me down and cradle me against his chest. Safe. I was safe. Perhaps I could stay here. It would be so easy to close my eyes and drift to sleep. I could leave another night. Luka yawned into my hair. Squeeze…Tap. I’m here, I’m with you. “I won’t let them hurt you again.” His voice was thick with sleep.
If I stayed, they had won. All the death and pain would be for nothing.
“I know,” I whispered into the dark.
“Did you know your parents were part of the rebellion?” His voice trailed off at the end, muffled against my hair.
I turned to face him, his eyes were closed. I shook him, trying to rouse him.
“What? Luka, what about my parents?”
It was no use, the plan had worked too well. He was asleep. Nothing would wake him now.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I forced myself out of the bed. I didn’t have much time. I flicked on the lamp, rolled up the tracksuit pants, pulled the shirt back over my head, and went hunting for a weapon. It was cold outside of the bed. I looked back at Luka’s sleeping form. It would be so easy to slide back under the covers and sleep, but I had slept enough.
There were two swords hanging on the wall. Luka wouldn’t have an ornamental sword in his room. I slid one out of its sheath. It was heavy but balanced perfectly when I rested it in the palm of my hand. A smile stretched the papery skin of my face. I searched the rest of the room. I needed something else. If I had to access my Magic I couldn’t use the sword. I would cut my arm clean off. His room was sparse and there were not many hiding places. I opened his closet and found rows and rows of black uniforms. I pushed them aside searching the bottom of the wardrobe. Nothing but shoes. I didn’t bother fixing anything up.
I moved to the grey ottoman at the end of his bed and felt the gritty timber underneath. My hands came across the smooth hilt of a dagger.
Bingo.
I ripped it out and admired it in the moonlight. It was achingly familiar. I steadied myself and hardened my heart. Luka was laying on the bed with the sheets draped over his waist. His muscled torso looked deadly even at rest.
This is my enemy.
He was the Elect. If by some miracle I made it out alive Luka would hunt me to the ends of the earth. This man had betrayed me. He had betrayed my friends. The Hunter had brought the Elect down on the rebellion. I had to banish the fallacy of my Luka and the Hunter—they were one and the same. A familiar rage begun to build within me. I clung to the feeling. This was the man that had dragged me to be tortured night after night. He had committed numerous atrocities in the name of his masters.
I passed the dagger to my good palm. My Magic purred and curled around me as it recognised my violent intentions. I crawled onto the bed and straddled his waist again.
It was hard to resist the urge to lay down on his chest and inhale the sweet scent of his power. He looked so much younger when he was asleep, so peaceful. There was no hardness behind his eyes, no snarl that curled his lip. The anger would keep me safe.
I pulled the memory of him pressing a dagger to my throat to the forefront of my mind. How he had held me against his car and threatened me with the paralysis potion. The memory was at odds with the way his Magic now protectively wrapped around me. The tendrils of his power caressed my waist, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. I gritted my teeth.
It doesn’t matter.
I dragged the sharp blade across my palm. The blood dripped through my closed fist and onto his chest. My power built within me, the warmth thrumming pleasantly through me until it reached the ends of my hair and my eyes flickered black.
I am the bringer of death. I am ruthless and merciless, a born killer. With each breath I pushed my soft, traitorous emotions down. My time in Ka had made me weak, but two years wouldn’t erase my past.
The Hunter needed to die.
I knew hesitation was weakness, but still, I kept my Magic wound tightly in my chest. My hand shook as the blood pooled on his golden skin before rolling off his chest and onto the mattress.
He needs to die.
Salty tears ran down my cheeks and over my lips. I bit down on my bottom lip, letting the pain clear my mind. I hate him. I hate him!
But I couldn’t bring myself to plunge my Magic into his skin, or even to spill his blood. What I wanted to kill was much deeper.
You idiot.
I fled the room and Luka’s sleeping body.
I’d be dead soon anyway.
In the next blink I found myself in the middle of a corridor. The hall was brightly lit and deadly silent. The Elect was too cocky to have enforcers roaming their inner sanctum. My body was tense as I moved silently through the winding halls. All remnants of Luka’s power had disappeared from my system and I felt considerably weaker away from his presence. If I didn’t concentrate on my bare feet moving over the cold tiles, I feared my mind would fracture again. I needed to find Judas.
My doubts were interrupted by a set of footsteps hurrying down the hallway. My heart thundered in my chest. Had I been found? Magic flooded my veins, racing to my fingertips and filling the emptiness inside my chest. My vengeance turned hot.
I hovered behind the corner, peering around slowly.
Two figures marched down the hall, stiff-legged and rushing. They were unarmed. For a moment it was if the world had turned warm and golden. My vision was enhanced, like I was s
eeing high definition for the first time. The Magic continued to build. It coursed through my body like champagne bubbles. I could revel in the feeling forever. Hatred filled me, it was acidic on my tongue.
I emerged from my hiding place. When they spotted me, they didn’t hesitate.
Icy wind speared toward me, but I was too fast. I sliced my thigh and wrapped my power in a thick bubble around me. The attack rebounded harmlessly from my shield. I stalked toward my prey. I could see the whites of their eyes. The one on the left had been one of my jailers. He had particularly enjoyed watching me cry.
With a flick of my wrist I released the hold on my power and let the deadly tendrils fly. My power ravaged his body, consuming his Magic as his eyes bulged in his skull. The other enforcer tried to strike out at me with more wind but my shield held steady. When I finished toying with my prey, he crumbled to the floor his life force snuffed out. I killed the other one much faster, my Magic consuming him in a black noxious smoke.
“Stop! By order of the Elect!” a booming male voice sounded from behind me. I shouldn’t have been so indulgent. It had given them time to scream.
It didn’t matter now. Soon enforcers would flood the corridors and I would kill them all. I spun on my heel. A familiar battle rage rose within me. I had felt it every time I had stepped into the arena or killed a mark.
This was who I was, who I was meant to be.
Once I had taken my revenge I would finally know peace.
The skinny enforcer was swallowed by my Magic before he could launch an attack. Droves of soldiers began to escape from their rooms and swarm me. I couldn’t fight them in the tight quarters. I sprinted toward the smallest group and, with a flick of my wrist, they died. I came to a large dining area and backed up against the far wall. The battle rage quietened and a tendril of fear slid up my back. I clamped down on the feeling, I couldn’t allow any weakness now. My fingers coiled around the hilt of Luka’s blade. My other hand cramped painfully in response. I didn’t have much time to dwell on the pain. In the next moment a group of enforcers stormed me. With a slice of my blade, my blood begun to run freely down my thigh. I drew the Magic from deep within myself and unleashed it on my enemies. An alarm sounded.
I had never fought a group before. In the arena I fought with weapons and the occasional burst of fire. My time as a mercenary had been spent killing from the shadows. This was different. The darkness filled me and instead of reigning it in I let it rain down.
Everything fell away, and the only thing that mattered was the enemy in front of me. My power moved across the dining room like a storm rolling in. It devoured everything in its path, suffocating any magical attack before it could materialise. Some screamed in pain, but most crumbled silently under the weight of my power.
Enforcers continued to spill into the room in an endless stream. The tips of my fingers had begun to go numb and the cold was slowly spreading up my arms. My once-endless supply of power was suddenly fallible.
Stella had been wrong.
Some of the enforcers pushed past my line of black noxious power and sprinted toward me, swords drawn. I yanked my power back into myself, not wasting more energy. I fortified my shield. My concentration faltered as someone threw themself at me. I swung my weapon too late, their blade bit into my shoulder. My skin split open and my blood poured down my arm making the grip on my weapon slippery. The pain cleared my mind and my Magic came roaring back. I swung and cut through the enforcer. Luka’s weapon was a thing of beauty.
My muscles burned and shook as I fought off four enforcers with my blade. I was outnumbered. Still I continued to stab and slash. It was only through years of ruthless practice that I able to keep going. Magical attacks continued to rain down on my shield. I struggled to keep standing. I swiped downward with the blade, a long gash opened up across the midsection of the enforcer in front of me and deep red blood coated my bare feet. He stumbled to his knees and I swung my blade down across his neck, his severed head fell to the floor with a thud.
Upon seeing his fellow swordsmen decapitated, one enforcer snarled at me and threw a vicious kick to my side. I dodged too slow and the wind was knocked from my lungs. I faltered for a moment too long. My blood-covered sword was kicked from my hand and it clattered to the ground.
The enforcer lunged at me with her sword. My adrenaline surged and my Magic followed, involuntarily burying through her veins. She collapsed to the floor, bleeding from her mouth.
My power faltered. Instead of fire, ice shot through my veins. My limbs grew heavy and I shook with the effort it took to keep standing. I would die here.
The crowd hesitated. Their eyes flicked between themselves and the pile of dead bodies in front of me. They didn’t know how weak I was. If they did, they would have attacked already. The scent of blood hung in the air and my body was slick with it.
I took a deep breath and pushed the adrenaline down. Crouching, I lifted my sword and a wild snarl filled the quiet space between us. I finally looked like the monster I was. My body was scarred, my eyes like endless black voids and my hair mattered.
I would haunt their nightmares.
My muscles tensed and I was ready to launch into another attack.
A wall of blue flames rose in front of me, cutting me off from the group. Vanilla overpowered the scent of death that had filled the room and I whipped around looking for the cause.
The Hunter emerged from an unseen corridor beside me. I swung around, readying my weapon. I had been foolish enough to show mercy once. The mistake would not be made again.
For the first time in a long time I saw genuine fear flash behind his eyes. It was well placed. Finally he saw me for the monster I truly was. A bead of sweat rolled down my back.
I stepped closer to him and away from the suffocating heat. My back straightened and my shredded t-shirt slipped from my shoulder. His gaze shifted to my uncovered skin and his eyes raked my body. The Hunter’s power licked at exposed skin. The heat from his Magic replaced some of the iciness that had weighted down my limbs. I sauntered toward him. He sashayed away, keeping his distance. I could hear the screams of the enforcers as they attempted to breach the Hunter’s wall of flames.
“Rina, we need to get out of here.”
I licked my lips, remembering the feel of his mouth as it trailed down my neck.
“You have to leave now or they’ll kill you.”
“I don’t care. I want Judas.”
Revenge would bring me peace or it would bring me death.
“He’s not here. He left a month ago.”
Liar. I flung the last remnants of my power toward him. He brought his hand up to shield his face, the black smokey tendrils parted and dispersed into the air like they were no more than smoke on the breeze.
No.
He looked as surprised as I felt. I grabbed the dagger from the waistband of my pants and crossed toward him. It seemed wrong to attack a man with his own blade. Good thing I had never had any honour. Before I could slash at him he threw a ball of flames toward me. I jumped out of the way, but the Hunter wasn’t aiming for my chest so I misjudged the distance. The ball of fiery Magic smashed into my stomach. I waited for the pain, for the unbearable heat to spread across my chest, but it never came. Instead, his delicious, tingling power filled me. Sending pleasant shivers up my spine.
The fire replaced some of the Magic I had lost.
Like lightening, he rushed me. I kicked him hard in the chest. The Hunter didn’t stumble back. Instead he grabbed my arm and tried to drag me away from his flames.
“We have to go now.”
I struggled violently from his grip, screaming like a banshee. He was going to take me back to the cells. With my body as weak as it was there was no way I could beat him in a fight. I scratched at his face and bit his hand. His skin gave way under my teeth and his blood filled my mouth.
He swore and pushed me to the ground, pressing my wrists into the ground.
“Please,” I moaned, trying to buck
him off. “Kill me.”
Panic overtook me. My breathing became rapid and shallow. My heart pounded in my chest and my vision threatened to go dark. I had thought my sanity had returned, but it was slipping through my fingers like sand. I felt like I was drowning with no hope of being saved. Painful memories began to spread through my mind and take me back to places that I never wanted to revisit. I strained my palms toward my ears and tried to block out the haunted screams, but it didn’t work. They grew louder and louder and I desperately wished them away. Before I was lost for good, a golden thread of Magic cut through the dark. I was guided back to reality by the feel of a warm hand cradling my cheek. The screams finally began to quieten.
“Cut it out! I can’t hold them off much longer.” He forced me to make eye contact. If I looked away, the last threads of my sanity would float off.
“I won’t go back.”
“You idiot. I’m as much a traitor as you. We have to leave this place now.”
He hauled me to my feet and dragged me through the corridors. Without warning we exploded onto the street.
The night air seared my lungs. There were no shouts coming from behind me or stray Magic being shot at our back. We were free.
I burst through the doors and kept running. The Hunter grabbed my wrist and turned me around to face the Elect headquarters. The building seemed small. It was all smoked glass and steel. It didn’t look like it housed a rat’s nest of horrors behind the clean facade. It was like everything the Elect built. The beautiful exterior hid the atrocity that lurked beneath. He presented me with the hilt of his dagger.
“Burn it.”
“I don’t have any Magic left.” He flicked his wrist and the dagger disappeared.
There was a thin line of blood on the heel of his palm that he reached out and curled his fingers around mine. “Use mine.”
The Sanguine Door Page 25