by Reid, Stacy
Shilah saw no softening in his mien, and she sensed he would not be deterred. In battle Shilah would typically read the mind of her opponent, anticipating everything they did before they acted. His shield prevented that, and she hated the uncertainty that burned in her.
How could she defeat him?
She never took her eyes or her mind from him, her body remaining still and ready, perfectly balanced. His lips curved slightly at her actions, and she narrowed her eyes hoping the fact he underestimated her fighting skills would give her the opportunity to escape. Her slight stature and delicate build always made others believe she was weak. While she did not possess the deadly art of hand combat, or the ability to move with such speed she appeared a blur, Shilah had the will of her forefathers, and the hope of her people on her shoulders. She could not allow this man to defeat her. And she wished with her entire heart she was braver. The knowledge she may very well lose had a hollowness rising through her.
“Kala.”
The need to connect with her sister was instinctive. Shilah’s throat closed, not knowing how to say farewell. A hated wave of vulnerability washed through her.
“What is it, Shilah? I have packed, and I am awaiting you.”
“I am dreadfully sorry to ask you this. Could...could you try and see my future?”
The silence was chilling. Her sister’s fear came through their mental connection acrid with an aura of blackness.
“I…let me try.” A sob fluttered in her mind, then an enraged scream of denial. “I saw myself on the throne of Dxyriah, ruling in your stead.”
Relief pierced Shilah. Her sister would live. And their birthright would be reclaimed. “I love you, Kala, more than you will ever know. We’ve planned for this. Use your powers. Try and see the possible outcome as you flee to safety, do not wait for me.” Then she closed the pathway unique only to them before she could hear the protests.
Shilah attacked. She covered the distance between them in a single leap, her knife fashioned from pure aura aimed at his throat, her mind opened, searching for a weakness in his shield. If she could read his mind, she would triumph, for then every move and intention would be telegraphed before he executed them. He evaded the knife, a blur of speed she barely tracked. She kicked her feet high, slamming her heels into his chest with her full strength. Again, she failed to deliver a blow. Using the force of her telekinesis she flung her knife toward his throat, in a flash of blue energy, and he vanished. She breathed harshly, staring in confusion. Too late, she spun around to meet his attack, and a forearm roped with muscle banded across her throat.
His grip on her was brutal in its absoluteness. “Be still.”
Her eyes burned. She sank into the center of her power, flaring her aura, concentrating on his shields. Something in her, strong and proud, could not relent, could not submit to the raw force of the man who meant to take her life.
“Cease your attacks or I will break your neck.”
She flinched at his hard, merciless voice. “Let’s bargain,” she said hoarsely, determined to slow the frantic beat of her heart and the fear that was trying to cripple her.
He bent his head, his warm breath by her temple sending a shiver of heat coiling in the pit of her stomach. Rage bit through her that she could have such a reaction to this man. It was unpardonable.
“You have no bargaining power.”
She absolutely wished to stick her knife into the arrogant bastard. “You are seeking the dungeons. I will do everything possible to help you find it.”
“Accepted.”
His quick capitulation alarmed her. “In exchange for my life and freedom.”
“No.”
Incredulity surged through her. “You are not stupid enough to believe I would ever help you, knowing at the end of it you will kill me,” she snarled.
“In exchange for your sister’s life and liberty.”
Shilah jerked, then faltered into complete stillness. At this moment fear was an ugly, living thing she couldn't shake. Her throat burned and with a harsh gasp she realized tears rolled down her cheeks in a hot trail. They dripped onto his forearm but neither of them moved, and they stood like that for precious seconds while silent tears of misery wetted them both. “I accept.”
“You do not wish to die,” he said softly, a vein of curiosity in his voice.
A choked sound escaped her. “You know of many people who wish to be murdered?” she demanded sarcastically.
His hand slipped from her. “Death is a consequence of war. Some accept it with grace.”
She lurched away from him, spun around, and backed away until she came upon the wall. “You and I are not at war. My battle is not here in Amagarie. It awaits me in Serange.”
The sounds of shuffling feet sounded in the distance. She flared her telepathy brushing against more than one hundred minds, reading a few. Her breath shuddered from her, and she wasn’t sure if it was in relief or dread. “Warriors are headed our way. Grand General Shenzhen leads them.”
No expression flickered in his eyes, as if the notion did not rattle him. “The grand general is one of the most feared men in the empire.”
Still no reaction.
“You’ll be arrested,” she said.
“You sound hopeful.”
If he was arrested, then he could not kill her, unless he was to act before they reached her. He shifted, and she flared her telekinetic powers, regretful she was only an Alpha in that geneses. She mentally lifted him and slammed him into the door with such force it splintered, and he stumbled into the hall. She couldn’t help feeling he had allowed her attack.
Shilah grabbed the sari she’d discarded and hurriedly tugged the floating garment around her body, then belted it at the waist with a gold rope. Then she slipped on silk undergarments, wishing she had time to don more serviceable clothing. The sheer dress did not allow for the concealment of a weapon. She pushed her feet into jeweled shoes. Grabbing the bag, she’d packed earlier, she pushed it under the four-poster bed, as the Grand General and his warriors came into view.
Lachlan struggled to his feet, and she frowned for her attack had not been all that powerful. He withdrew his weapon, and Grand General Shenzhen whistled, and soundwaves undulated in the air. Shilah barely had the time to throw up a barrier of pure aura to protect her from the sound waves that slammed through the corridor.
A crack sounded, Lachlan’s left leg twisted in a savage break, yet he made no sound as he went down hard. He rolled into a crouch and held his weapon in a graceful fighting position, analyzing the warriors with impressive calm. Or perhaps he was just addled.
The General smiled, and Shilah’s heart trembled. Drop the knife she wanted to shout, for Lord Shenzhen took pleasure in the pain of others. He clicked his tongue, and she groaned at the force of the waves that battered against her shields. The sound compressed the air around her, shattering her shield. Pain exploded in her head, and she tasted the raw tang of blood. The casual strength and the power of how the General wielded sound was terrifying.
The attack stopped within seconds, and she swallowed the gasp. Lachlan lay on the ground, blood running from his eardrums and nose. The shirt ripped away from his chest, revealing a torso roped with muscles.
“And who is this?” Shenzhen asked, sparing a cursory glance at the shattered door before his dark eyes settled on her.
“An assassin,” she said softly, wondering why he did not fight back. It’s too easy. “I…I believe he was here to kill me.”
“How curious,” Shenzhen said. “The emperor must be made aware. Come.”
Then he turned around and sauntered away, expecting to be obeyed. Two warriors stooped and gathered Lachlan, gripping him by his underarms and dragged him away. Shilah stood frozen until the General murmured over his shoulder, “Your sister awaits us in the throne room, princess. Surely you would not leave her?”
Her composure almost cracked. She opened the pathways in her mind and searched for her sister’s thread. “Kala?�
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“A dozen warriors came for me just now. I am with the emperor.”
And Shilah knew then even without the interference of Lachlan Ravenswood, they would not have made it from the empire tonight.
The emperor had already been several steps ahead.
5
A few minutes later, they entered the throne room of the Emperor. Shilah furiously thought about why the emperor had come for them. Clearly, he had anticipated her fleeing, but he couldn’t have known she would have acted right away. Squaring her shoulders, and lifting her chin haughtily, she advanced into the room, conscious of the hungry, predatory gaze of the emperor. He stood before his throne of gold, Jasper, and rubies. He was deliberately projecting the thoughts of how he wanted her on her knees before him. She refused to give him the satisfaction of flinching or betraying in any way she knew his vile musings. His long flowing robes swirled around his feet, as energy rippled around him. Kala stood by his side, with her hands fisted, her lips flattened in hard, determined lines. Her hair had been braided, and Kala had gotten the opportunity to slip on her full body suit.
Lachlan was flung in front of the emperor, and his skull slammed onto the tiles with a resounding thud. Though she should hold no sympathy for a man who had seemed bent on taking her life, compassion stirred inside Shilah. General Shenzhen lifted a fist, and majority of the warriors filed out of the room, leaving ten men who stood in front of the door guarding it from the inside.
“A man was reported to be seen entering your private rooms, Princess Shilah, I assume this is he?” The emperor asked, his gaze penetrating and direct.
A report from whom? “I believe he was sent to kill me.”
“Oh?”
She faltered. Surely, he didn’t believe she worked with this man. “I prepared for sleep when he intruded. Our battle had just started when the General somehow seemed to know I was in need. I can only assume you have guards watching my chamber for my safety. I thank you, Emperor Khan, for sending him to my aid. My kingdom will not forget your generosity.”
His eyes seemed to glow with genuine amusement at her attempts of diplomacy. “I am surprised you were unable to kill one man.” He peered down at Lachlan. “He does not seem to be much of a threat.”
He did believe she worked with the man. Cold suspicion lingered in his tone.
“I do not know this man,” she said icily. “He questioned me about the dungeons, and when I gave no satisfactory answer, he drew his blade with a promise to end my life because I’ve been working with you, Emperor. I attacked.”
The emperor lowered himself onto his throne and considered her.
“Why do I feel as if I am under suspicion?” she demanded with a lift of her brow, ensuring she infused her voice with the chilling hauteur of her rank. “Respectfully, I am the Princess of Dxyriah, I do not answer to the empire.”
The General stiffened, caressing the cold steel of his sword, apparently taking offense at her audacity.
The Emperor glanced down at Lachlan for several moments before making her the sole center of his regard. His mien of casual interest had vanished. Suddenly he looked invincible, merciless. “I am curious, Princess Shilah, why did you not incapacitate the intruder with your telepathy? He is only one man.”
“He has a shield, one I could not penetrate.”
“A mental barrier that an Imperial telepath could not penetrate?”
A charged stillness blanketed the room. General Shenzhen peered at the man on the ground, a tension invading the general’s shoulders. He drew his sword, walked over, and with casual brutality drove it through Lachlan’s right shoulder and twisted. A harsh groan echoed from his throat, and his hand flashed up and gripped the blade. She forced herself to watch and not appear weak when the general pulled out the sword, slicing open the palm of the hand that had gripped it. Another hiss of pain sounded from the man on the ground, and the metallic scent of blood wafted on the air. The grand general repeated his vicious attack at Lachlan Ravenswood’s left shoulder, and then in his left side. She looked away from the blood pooling on the jade tiled floor.
“I believe his barriers are weakened, Princess. I want to know how he infiltrated the castle.”
“My emperor, I do not believe—”
The emperor barely inclined his head, and one of the warriors stationed by the door flashed faster than she’d been able to see and placed a blade against Kala’s throat. His move so surprised her, Shilah’s tongue felt thick with surprise. She stepped forward, and blood spurted from her sister’s throat, freezing her.
“Please, don’t!” she cried out, her heart a war drum behind her breastbone.
“I find I am of a mind to teach you the consequences of disobeying an order of the Empire, Princess, and correcting the misguided belief that you do not answer to me.”
Rage burned through Shilah. “If you harm her further, there is nothing you can do to induce me to work for you,” she snapped with icy contempt.
The emperor’s cold reptilian gaze settled on her face. “You’ve grown claws,” he murmured. “I shall be forced to clip them.”
He glanced at the warrior and the man plunged his dagger through her sister’s heart.
Shilah screamed, dropping to her knees, gripping fistfuls of her hair. Energy poured out of her, raging and churning, as she slammed into the warrior’s mind with the full force of her psychic power. “Stop breathing.”
The warrior dropped, his body clattering onto the tile, and she pushed her power toward the emperor’s mind, rage and pain ruling all thoughts and actions. The barrier she encountered was crafted from several spells and enchantments so she could not breach his mind.
The Emperor smiled. “Be calm, Princess.” He stood and glided with menacing elegance toward Kala who clutched her chest, her face a grimace of pain and horror as the blood poured through her fingers. The emperor uncorked a glowing vial he had around his throat and tipped it to her lips. With a harsh gasp, her sister swallowed, and the wound on her neck and chest healed within seconds, and vitality flushed her skin pink.
Shilah stared back at him, breathing rapidly, the taste of fear lingering in her mouth.
“This is the elixir of life, stolen from Boreas—kingdom of winds and mountains. I am in possession of several jars. I believe I will find immense pleasure in killing your sweet sister, bringing her back before death claims her, and killing her again. I wonder how long before her mind breaks?”
His voice was low, beautiful, and all the deadlier for it.
Kala’s aura flickered with the yellow hue of fear. Hatred burned through Shilah’s heart with such an intensity she trembled. She lurched to her feet, and without reply, shifted her gaze to the man lying on the floor. She flared her powers, brushing against the walls of his mind, shocked to find his barriers had indeed been lowered. She moved closer, sinking to her knees beside him, and cradled his head onto her lap.
“I know that you are conscious.”
She frowned when he made no answer. She closed her eyes and sent her mind into his, surprised at the control he had over his pain. Shilah studied the shield, seeing it as a massive wall in her mind. Its depth and breadth were unfathomable. It rose with no end in sight, yet beyond it, she sensed a hovering darkness. She probed, and an opening appeared in the middle of the wall, showing several silver threads of memories.
“What do you see?” Grand General Shenzhen demanded.
Fragments of thoughts that were impossible to follow. She knocked at another section of the wall, curious as to the complexity of its construct. The fact a small square part had opened, implied he allowed it down, and not the pain of the grand general’s power and sword damaging his body. She peered down into his face, noting the lack of tension across his brows. She almost smiled. He had been the one to lower his shields with the intention of manipulating the outcome of this meeting. She read the thoughts he wanted to be projected.
“He’s here to kill me,” she murmured. “And he’ll not rest until he ha
s done so.” That thread of knowledge was at the forefront of his thoughts, and it was not a deception. It was an unshaken resolve. After he completed the mission that took him to the empire, he would end her life.
“You arrogant bastard,” she whispered to him, searching for a response. He remained a blank canvas. His control of the shield wall was impressive.
Was it her imagination she felt mocking amusement?
“And where is he from?” The Emperor demanded. “His kingdom?”
She examined the few threads of memories. “I cannot see.” The rest of the wall was tightly constructed except for that small opening. She considered the will it took to only lower a controlled piece of the barrier and what it said about Lachlan Ravenswood. He had purposefully allowed himself to be captured and placed himself in the hands of someone as vicious as the emperor of Mevia, so he could discover the whereabouts of the dungeons. He was cunning. And arrogant. And foolish.
“You should not have allowed me this crack,” she whispered deep into his mind. “I sense what you are doing. You are giving the emperor enough information to consign you to the dungeons, but you are holding back enough where he won’t want to kill you. His paranoid heart won’t be able to rest until he knows which kingdom sent you. And you’ve buried that knowledge behind your shield. He’ll be forced to imprison and torture you for the information. You are playing a perilous game.”
He showed no reaction, but she knew he heard her. Shilah pressed the flat of her palm against his forehead.
“But you did not count on me, or you underestimated my resolve.”
A slow tension invaded his muscles, and she felt the flicker of curiosity deep in his mind.
“I do not care about the emperor or even why you want to find the dungeons so badly. The only thing I care about is my sister and my people. You promised to kill me, but you see, for my sister to make it back to Serange alive and well, I must live. And I know that without a barrier you cannot defeat me in a battle and kill me.”