“Let’s not waste this, shall we?”
A grin ticked at the corner of his mouth. Drawing her with him, he leaned back, arching his groin against hers. “The champagne? Or the ride?”
∼ ∼ ∼
Ensconced in Lily’s bedroom, Agaar lifted a double layer of heavy blackout drapes and stared unseeing out a tall, multi–paned window. In Lily’s frustration to get him completely hard, they’d tumbled across the wide car seat, drenching her in champagne. He licked his lips to taste remnants of the alcohol and the distinct musky flavor of vampyre. He wanted more. Needed more.
Tükenis insisted his gatherers be conditioned against seduction and Agaar had become a master of control, but Lily tested him sorely. Nowhere in his long memory hovered a woman who he’d needed to touch, to taste, to have. The thought concerned and confused him. Threatened the control he prized—and needed to regain his soul. Tükenis’ instructions echoed in Agaar’s mind. He knew what he needed to gather the vampyre and deliver her to Death’s door.
He snorted at the absurdity and wondered again why Tükenis, the Master Death, chose to gather one who was already dead. The reasons didn’t matter, Agaar returned his focus to regaining his complete soul.
The click of a door latch announced Lily. Agaar dropped the heavy fabric and turned. Lily sauntered across the floor, her short silk robe open to her waist, revealing skin the color of cream and the inner curve of her breasts. Pale, golden brows arched over her dark eyes as she gestured to the bed between them. Grinning, she bent forward to draw back the bedding, offering him an unobstructed view of her body.
With a series of short, harsh breaths, Agaar reinforced his shields, hid the master’s gathering directives then relinquished the strict constraints over his body. Loosened from his control, his body jerked and grew painfully hard. Even if Lily hadn’t crooked her finger at him, he would go to her. Even if Tükenis’ compulsions ripped him in two, he would go to her. He didn’t understand.
And he didn’t care.
∼ ∼ ∼
Muted light from the rising sun outlined the window. Lily stretched as far as her tethered ankles would allow and smiled. Agaar had indeed proven up to the sensual challenges she set for him, and once she’d drawn the hidden wildness from him, he’d invented a few of his own. His domination proved unusual, delightful, and she hardly missed the taking of his blood. Tonight, however, she would take them both to greater heights of desire. And release.
A frown tightened her lips. Twice she’d kissed her way to his neck and twice, for some reason she’d been repulsed by the small tattoos covering his artery. She’d thought little of it at the time, being otherwise occupied. Now it really didn’t matter. She reached for him.
Agaar caught her hand and pressed his lips to the palm. “It’s morning. And you’re awake.”
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”
Another kiss sent delightful shivers straight to her core. She might never let this one go.
“I thought ... well, that sunlight ...”
So, the innocent had returned. Lily tugged a moment against the silk binding her then relaxed. She liked this robe. No need to tear the material unnecessarily. “You believe me to be a creature of the night then?”
Propping himself on one elbow, Agaar grinned down at her. “I know what you are, my pale Lily.”
“And it doesn’t frighten you? I don’t frighten you?”
Something dark and dangerous filled his eyes, drawing her in, holding her breathless. For a split second, he frightened her. Who was this man?
Then he blinked and a glint of humor twined with sensual promise. “Should I be?” The warmth of his palm cupped her cheek and he stroked stray hairs from her face. “Don’t you need to rest?”
Ready to replace the need for sleep with another, more active need, Lily opened her mouth. He touched one square–tipped finger to her lips and she sighed. “Unlike the tales, I will not burn to a crisp in the sunlight. Nor, obviously, do I fall into the sleep of the dead upon sunrise. It is difficult for me to see in the daytime or in any bright light. And while I am more lethargic during the day, it makes for different lovemaking. But no less pleasurable. Let me show you.”
He shook his head and yawned. “I’m tired and I must rest.” His finger strayed to the outer corner of her eye and stroked softly to her temple. “I will not leave you.” Repeating the comforting motion and whispering words she didn’t understand, he lulled her senses. Lily closed her eyes and let the lethargy take her.
Unsure Death’s chant would work, Agaar continued the gentle strokes until her body relaxed and her lips parted in a soft snore. Either she defied undead conventions in this as well, or breathed to appear human to her ... guests.
The thought of another in this bed with her rumbled a low growl in Agaar’s throat. He slid from the mattress and shook his head. It made no difference to him if another shared her bed. The thought had no meaning to him. Once he brought her to his master, her life—he gave a derisive snort—her undead life would end. She would be truly dead.
Like others he’d gathered, he would not mourn this Lily. But unlike the others, this time, with this final gather, he would be free. Alive. His soul complete—and completely his. Still, some emotion he refused to identify burned behind his eyes while he dressed. He brushed the back of his hand over the odd pain and felt dampness against his skin. No. That would not be. Could not be. Clenching his fists at his sides, Agaar ground his teeth together and forced away the odd, lingering sorrow.
With cold precision he wrapped his quarry in a rumpled sheet. He ripped the belt from her ankle and wadded the silk in his fist. He meant to toss it across the room, but stuffed it into his pocket instead. Wary of waking her, he scooped Lily into his arms, spoke a command and stood at Death’s Gate.
∼ ∼ ∼
“Close the curtain.”
Bright light surrounded Lily, burning through her eyelids. She couldn’t remember ever waking to such intensity. “Agaar, please. It’s too bright.”
She patted her hand to one side, finding a smooth, hard surface instead of her bed. Why was she laying on the floor? “Agaar?”
Easing to sit, she shaded her eyes and peered through mere slits. Not even a dull shape in the brightness gave her a clue to her location. The sheet hindered her movement so she let it fall and rose to her knees. She stretched her arm before her but once her hand passed beyond a few inches, it disappeared in the light. Her blind exploration to each side and behind her brought no enlightenment. Panic tightened her throat. Where was she?
Opening her eyes as wide as she could, she stared forward until the pain grew too great and tears coated her lashes before streaming down her cheeks. This was her punishment for laughing at humans who couldn’t see when she led them through the total darkness of her home. Squeezing her eyelids together, she whispered, the words loud in the dreadful silence. “Please. Make it go away. Don’t make me stay here.”
She cringed and held her hands before her, searching, beseeching. Why was she being punished this time? She was no longer a child. She didn’t deserve Rochna’s punishment. She hadn’t even heard from him in half a century. Why?
The child in her, a bit of innocence she never believed she’d had, cried out for comfort. For protection. Her stomach clenched. Sweat beaded on her forehead, turning cold before she wiped the damp away with trembling fingers. She gnawed on her lower lip and the sharp points of her teeth drew blood. She dropped to her hands and knees, crawling, searching for a wall, a doorway, anything she could claw through and escape. She was a good girl, despite what Rochna repeated oft and oft again. She was. Certainly never bad enough to deserve this punishment.
Not again.
Panic twisted into fear. Lily curled into a tight ball on her side, pressed against the cold floor. She tugged at the sheet and wrapped her arms around herself but could find no comfort. A tiny speck of darkness hovered just beyond her mental reach, defying the brightness. The times she’d been lo
cked in the light and told the days were for her own good, she’d discovered a way to fight the fear—a point of focus, any focus, in a place where nothing existed but light and pain.
“Agaar. Help me.” Lily concentrated on imagining the angles of his face, the masculine hands that brought her so much pleasure. The tenderness of his firm lips when he kissed her. Agaar. Her focus. Fear kept her cowering on the floor, but anger warmed her. If he had been taken as well or was harmed in any way ... she’d find the way to destroy whoever had done this. It didn’t matter how much she hurt or what they did to her, if they touched her love, they would hurt more. They would die.
The tiny speck of darkness danced behind her closed eyelids. Keeping Agaar in her thoughts calmed her panic but the worry and fear for him brought ceaseless, burning tears.
∼ ∼ ∼
Agaar waited just beyond the cube of light confining Lily. She cowered near the center, covering her eyes with one hand, reaching out blindly with the other. The defeat in her posture pulled him forward on his toes. He ached to comfort, to kiss away the pain twisting the lips that had given him so much pleasure. Pleasure he didn’t deserve.
The unaccustomed heaviness in his chest thrummed with each breath. He felt ... guilt. He’d done his job, completed the task he’d been assigned and gathered Lily, bringing her to Death’s halls. The return of the remainder of his soul should be worth any pain, any guilt. But at this moment, if he could refuse the commission and return Lily to her home—
“Well done, Gatherer.”
Agaar turned toward Tükenis and bowed his head. “I do only as Master Death decrees.”
Tükenis chuckled. “Only as I say, eh, Agaar? We shall see.”
“My payment—”
“Will come soon enough.” Death stepped closer to the light enclosure. “Now, here is our Lily. I must admit I find this vampyre race intriguing. Did you find this quarry interesting as well?” He turned his head to await Agaar’s answer.
Schooling his features and willing the rumbling of unease along his spine to stillness, Agaar offered a one shoulder shrug. “A means to my end, no more. My payment?”
Tükenis had turned back to watch Lily. Agaar followed his gaze. Lily lay curled on her side, arms wrapped around her slender body. In less than one night, he’d brought her to this. Stolen her joy, and now her life. Undead though many called her, he’d felt nothing but life in the hours he’d spent loving her.
The thought slowed his blood. No. He had sex with her, not an uncommon means of gathering. He was unable to love another. Not with only part of a soul. Such a thing was impossible. But when he focused on memories of the acts, of his duty, his heart pounded as though wishing to escape his chest. Instead his memory found joy in the moments between when they lay nestled together, sometimes silent, sometimes speaking of nothing. Defeated, he closed his eyes. When had the sex turned to love?
“Hmm, this is interesting.”
The contemplative tone jerked Agaar from his thoughts. Had Tükenis monitored his thoughts? “Master?”
“What was your payment for this gather?”
Tükenis knew exactly what he’d promised. The hard set of Agaar’s jaw made it difficult to answer. “The return of the last piece of my soul. My freedom.”
“I’m afraid to empty your soul’s storage container would not release you from your service, Gatherer.”
Horror at the possibility made Agaar’s words harsh. “The bargain was made, struck into the stones of the gate.”
Tükenis waved one hand. “Yes, yes. And that bargain stands. But, it appears, Agaar, you no longer retain possession of what you had already regained.”
It took a few moments for Agaar to comprehend. Despair like a length of heavy chain draped over his shoulders. “You could not take any more of my soul without my consent.”
“No, I take only what is willingly given or bargained for.” After a pause during which Tükenis looked from Agaar to Lily and back again, he grinned. A deep satisfaction brightened his normally gray expression. “You gave away part of your soul.”
Agaar pressed a hand to his chest as if to hold in the loss and stumbled back a step. “I would not.”
“Hmm. I don’t believe you meant to. Yet, it has happened.” He pointed to Lily. “Your seed sprouted in the vampyre’s womb. That seed carried part of your soul, to mix with hers.” A sneer of disgust pulled his lips. “Now I cannot take her. That bargain was for one soul only.”
Pounding footsteps rang across the stone. “Cheat! Deceiver!”
Agaar jerked toward the interruption and flowed into a defensive stance but Tükenis released a sigh worthy of the long suffering. “Another complaint, Rochna?”
A pale, wiry man stomped from the shadows to stand toe to toe with Tukenis. Nearly the same height, he leaned closer and hissed before speaking. “You gave assurances.”
“We made a bargain with certain assumptions, Rochna. The circumstances have changed, releasing us both and making the bargain void.”
Agaar narrowed his gaze. His nose twitched. Lily had called her mentor Rochna. This one reeked of ancient vampyre. The same then? If so, why would his Lily—his thoughts stalled. His Lily. He glanced toward the enclosure where she now sat with her head tipped to one side as if listening.
Rochna noticed as well. “Can the bitch hear us?”
Agaar winced at the hate overflowing from the words. Without his conscious command, his hands fisted, but he held them tense at his sides. He would know the reasons for this hatred before he confronted the vampyre.
Shaking his head, Tükenis heaved another sigh. “The containment is soundproof, but perhaps she senses your presence.”
“She has not the skills, despite her grand claims. Take that ... that ... take her soul and be done with it.” Rochna vibrated with rage but Tükenis waved away his demand. Agaar bit back a grin. Death had been his master long enough he knew the casual manner and indifference hid cold anger. The vampyre would rue the moment he chose to confront Death.
Few won that battle.
“I demand you honor the bargain.”
Tükenis arched one eyebrow.
Taking a step back, Agaar eased from the immortal combatants. With their attention focused on each other, perhaps he could release Lily and ... and what? There was no place to hide from Death, no way to fight the compulsion the bargain created in him to serve his master. Determined, he moved closer to the light. If nothing else, perhaps, if the vampyre prevailed, he could hold Lily and calm her fears in her last moments.
The rock of his imperfect soul pressed against his lungs, stealing his breath. If Tükenis spoke true, this would be the only time he held his child.
Expecting to break through a formidable barricade he grimaced when the enclosure oozed around his hand with cool stickiness and stepped through.
“Who’s there?” Eyes closed, Lily turned her head. “Agaar?”
“Ah, my pale Lily.” The muscles in his legs refused to move him forward and the tingle of Death’s magic surrounded him. This was all he would be allowed. He could not touch her. After his whispered curse, Tükenis’ laughter echoed through the chamber. The magic released him and he collapsed to his knees beside Lily.
Unerring, she captured his face between her palms then wrapped her arms around him. He held her close, stroked her hair, but could find no words of comfort for either of them.
“I—I was so afraid, Agaar. The light is so bright. I can’t see. I couldn’t get out. It’s so quiet. So alone. I’m frightened.”
“I’m here.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Didn’t I say I wouldn’t leave you?”
“Where are we?”
The question he dreaded. No, not the question, but the answer he had to give. She deserved at least that much truth from him. “We are in Death’s realm. Centuries ago, I was a foolish young man, so sure of myself. I made a bargain with Death. And lost my soul. Since that time I’ve gathered the dying for him.” Once begun, he couldn’t stop the a
gonized rumble of his words. “Bit by tiny bit I’ve earned back my soul. This ... you are to be the last. With the gathering of your soul, I should be free and whole.”
Back straight and rigid, she pulled from his embrace. “Should? Bringing down a vampyre wasn’t enough to satisfy Death? How could you, after the night we shared? All we spoke of—lies as well? Now we have no chance. Nothing. Why did you bring me here?”
“It’s complicated.” He had no answers, didn’t know what to tell her so asked, “How did you know it was me just now?”
Her rigid posture slumped and she tilted her head to one side. “I’ve always been able to sense the presence of those I have some connection to. To those I love.”
Agaar fought the leap of joy in his chest at her response, focusing instead on how it explained her reaction to the vampyre’s presence. “Moments ago, did you sense anyone?”
She nodded and rested her expressive hands against her thighs. “Rochna, the vampyre who raised me. But if this is where Death is, then that couldn’t be right, could it?”
Imprisonment had stolen her confidence. The back of Agaar’s eyes tingled. He brought her to this, destroyed his vibrant, determined Lily. What good was his soul to him now?
As though sensing the dimming of the light, Lily blinked. Soon gentle darkness surrounded them and Lily opened her eyes to look into his face. “I’ve always wondered about those colored circles humans say they see when lights flash. I understand now, but the spots I see are dark. Blessedly dark. And I see you, Agaar. I’m not so afraid.”
She should be. Agaar gathered her close again. “Don’t be afraid.”
“Only of the light, my love. Only of the light.”
Tükenis’ words echoed around them. “She should hear why you sought this bargain, Vampyre.”
Lily clutched at Agaar’s shoulders. “Is that ... Death?”
Tales From The Mist: An Anthology of Horror and Paranormal Stories Page 21