Mask of Poison (Fall of Under Book 1)

by Kathryn Ann Kingsley

  “That’s better.” He strode toward her, ignoring her terrified sounds as she fell against the railing. “I was so worried! Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you, did he? Tell me he didn’t touch you.”

  “Stop—”

  He drew close, and she tried as hard as she could to push him away. But he was unstoppable. He felt like a force of nature. How someone could be so injured and yet feel as immovable as a boulder, she didn’t know.

  I don’t belong here!

  He traced his hands up her arms, seemingly oblivious to how hard she was shoving him. “Sssh, it’s all right. I know you’re scared. You must be terrified—being taken away by Lyon and then brought here? This world can be so dangerous. So cruel. If Aon touched you—if he even thought about hurting you, I swear I will let you take half his marks yourself.”

  “I—”

  Rxa ran his fingertips over her throat, touching one of the four pinpricks that Aon had left in her skin from his claw. When she flinched, he hissed in sympathetic pain. “That must smart.”

  I flinched because you touched me. “I—I—I’m okay—”

  “Poor thing. Here…let me help you.” He reached up and pulled his mask from his face. She looked up at him, her panicked struggles forgotten for a second.

  His face was healing.

  He was pale, and there were red splotches on his skin where she had once been able to see through to tendon and bone. She could see the yellow writing that arched over his skin with its strange spirals and pointed, jagged script. He had deep, dark circles under his pale, yellow eyes. They flickered with curiosity, hunger, and…she struggled to name the last expression. Then she realized what it was. Agony.

  He must be beautiful when he’s not in pain.

  The thought caught her just as much by surprise as seeing his face. She forced it away. “H—help me?” She managed to gasp out her words, sounding as small and frightened as she felt.

  He stepped into her, pressing the length of his thigh against hers, pinning her to the railing. She shivered at the feeling of his hand against her throat as it wandered into her hair. “I love your hair color…half black, half white. Half light, half dark. Half life…and half death.” He smiled.

  “Thank you,” she managed to say without stammering. Barely. “P—please let me go.”

  He ignored her plea. “You’re welcome.” He leaned his head closer to her. She leaned back, trying to put more distance between them. Falling to her death, surrounded by drengil, might honestly be easier. She glanced down over her shoulder at them warily.

  “Oh, don’t worry about my friends. I’ve given them strict orders not to hurt you.” He smiled warmly again, his breath washing over her cheek. “When Aon ripped my heart out, they were just trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me…? But—but why?”

  “Why, you’re my little dove, naturally.” His hand tightened in her hair, and she pulled in a gasp. He carefully tilted her head back, exposing her throat to him. Those yellow eyes of his flicked down, and he tsked quietly. “Aon…always making a mess of things.” He leaned down.

  She gasped again, jolting in shock as his tongue touched her throat, slowly dragging along her skin. She realized what he was doing. He’s licking up the blood.

  When he dragged his tongue along another trail of blood that ran down her neck, she was shivering. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do.

  She didn’t know how to handle the fact that it felt like she was ablaze and yet thrown into a frozen lake at the same time. Her fingers tangled in the bandages he wore. Was she pushing him away? Or was she clinging to him for dear life?

  She didn’t know.

  “Please, stop—”

  “I know…I know.” He lifted his head to meet her gaze. His yellow eyes were lidded, and there was a glimmer of passion in them. The sight of it felt like someone had dropped a rock into her stomach. It fell like a brick down a well. His other hand slid gingerly along her jaw, his fingertips barely ghosting against her skin. Goosebumps rushed over her.

  “You’re terrified. I understand.” His eyes flicked between hers as he took her in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But look at you. Just look at you.” The long, sharp nail of his thumb ran along the line of her lower lip. “How can I resist this? Trembling in my arms, so frightened, but so excited?” The hand against her lip wandered down the front of her neck before grasping the hem of the black coat Aon had given her. He pulled it aside and lowered his head to her throat once more. “To say nothing of how you taste.”

  But this time, he drifted lower. She let out a choked squeak as his tongue ran along her collarbone and then down, chasing a line of blood that must have run underneath the hem of her shirt. “N—no—”

  “Oh, all right.” He chuckled against her as he straightened back up. “Ruin all my fun, why don’t you.” His voice was husky and thick. He was too close. She could smell him—the tangy scent of blood, and something else she couldn’t put her finger on. He was warm against her.

  “I don’t want to die,” she whispered.

  “You’re safe with me now, little dove. I promise.” He kissed her throat over her pulse. Slowly. Savoring her. He kept a hand tangled in her hair, cradling her head as his other arm slipped around her.

  It was the embrace of a lover.

  Heat flooded her cheeks. She had wanted to deny she was trembling. She wanted to scream at him. Kick him. Shout at him. But none of it happened. She was locked up. Frozen solid like a deer in a hunter’s sights.

  And somehow that made it all the more intense.

  He grazed his teeth along her skin, and her eyes slipped shut. He was going to tear out her throat. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die!

  But all her mental protests were futile the moment he began to let out that strange, inhuman purr. That deep, resonant sound that started in his chest. There was something hypnotic about it. Something that wanted to pull her in, pull her against him, and whisper that it was all going to be all right.

  She tried to fight it. But like the undertow of a current, she was helpless.

  Still, he was kissing her throat. Again, and again, gently, carefully, growing bolder with each embrace. Now and then he would nip at her skin, making her jolt in surprise and fear. He didn’t sink the fangs that she could feel pricking at her into her throat. But he didn’t stop, either.

  When had her shoulders relaxed? When did she stop twitching each time she felt his fangs? When did her hands stop pushing him away, but were instead clinging on to his chest and shoulder?

  When had she started to tilt her head willingly away to give him more room to kiss her?

  Her lips were parted, and the air around her felt hot. The thumb of the hand in her hair was slowly running circles against her scalp, lulling her further into the warm sensations he was drawing from her.

  He kissed his way up to her ear. “Good, little dove,” he whispered through the purr. “That’s it…you’re safe. Don’t fight it. Do you want more?”

  She couldn’t speak.

  She could only nod once.

  “I won’t hurt you. I’m just going to drink you, that’s all…just a little.” He pressed his lips to her cheek at the corner of her mouth. Not a kiss—not quite—but close enough that it sent her thoughts reeling. Her stomach now felt like a pit of snakes had taken over, writhing around each other in nervous excitement.

  His lips left her cheek to press once more to her throat. Deeper, harder, more passionate than before. She heard a shy, confused moan, and it took her a solid second to realize it had come from her. She had never made that noise before—but to be fair, she had never felt like this before, either.

  She felt drunk. Feverish and dizzy. Both a million miles away and too close to him at the same time. He was the only thing holding her down—keeping her in the moment.

  She didn’t know what she needed. But there it was, burning away inside her, demanding something she didn’t understand.

>   Then it happened.

  He sank his teeth into her throat.

  Perfect.

  The taste of her blood splashed against his tongue. Sweet and fresh, crisp like spring rain. The taste of her. Her heart was pounding. She was so afraid. Afraid…but needy. She had wanted his kiss.

  Oh, it was because he’d hypnotized her. Pulled her into a warm blanket and lulled her into the moment—but it still counted. He’d only just softened the fear that had made her run from him. It was an old trick, but his favorite. It had always worked wonders with the humans on Earth.

  Beautiful.

  Ember was both naïve and wise, tough and tender. Resilient, yet ready to crack. A walking contradiction, like her two-tone hair. Black and white, somehow forming a stunning, exquisite whole.

  He drank her slowly. He wanted the moment to last. His moan mixed with hers as she arched her back, pressing her chest to his. How he wanted to unwrap her, lay her down—have her as his own.

  She did so much love to be touched. He had seen the goosebumps form on her skin as he kissed her. Seen the confusion and the passion mix together in her dark eyes as they watched him in fear and anticipation. I wonder if she has ever had a lover before. Certainly, never one like me. That’ll change.

  He’d have to shower first. He was so very gooey, with all the blood and disgusting bandages he was wearing, and all. Rxa smiled against her skin. He would find Aon’s personal rooms. He’d shower, make love to Ember in Aon’s bed, then take a massive dump on the sheets before burning the King of Shadows’ home to the ground.

  It was a perfect plan.

  His day was starting to look up!

  Sure, Aon and the others had escaped. But they couldn’t hide from him forever.

  And now he had his dove.

  And she wanted him!

  Her fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling his head to her throat. She was gasping, writhing in his arms. He knew the pleasure that flooded her must be overwhelming. Their hearts were beating as one. Well, okay, her heart was being along with his…something or other. Aon had ripped out his heart, so he didn’t have one at the moment.

  I wonder how my blood is moving at all, then.

  Weird.

  When Ember whimpered his name, he shuddered. What bliss. I had forgotten how good this felt. But like all things, it was soon over. He pulled his fangs from her throat and let his tongue roll along the puncture wounds. They would heal by morning and be little more than a slight sore spot. He knew how to feed without harming his partners. He was never one to destroy the hive to get at the honey inside.

  And this prize was one he planned to keep for as long as he could.

  Tenderly lifting her head back to his, he licked his lips, eager to savor every last drop of her. “Hello, dove…welcome back.”

  She blinked her dark eyes, trying to focus on him. She was lost in the haze of ecstasy that he had brought her. He wanted to see it again. He wanted to see her arching beneath him as he plundered her body. First, he would be slow and gentle. Then, he would see if his theories were correct about the young woman and her personal predilections.

  Wait.

  Has that part even grown back yet?

  Shit.

  Oh, well. Maybe later.

  “I…what…” She tried to speak, but she was too weak to form a sentence.

  “Shh—it’s all right.” He put his mask back on before stepping back from the railing. “I have you.” Catching her in his arms as her knees buckled, he scooped her up in his arms. She was thin and muscular—she was obviously not well-fed and was used to a tough life. There was so much about her that he was so eager to know.

  Her head rolled against his shoulder. He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Why don’t we go find somewhere to rest…I’ll take a long shower, and you and I can snuggle up together in front of a fireplace.” He chuckled. “I can finish licking up that trail of blood later, if you’ll let me…I think I’d like that very much. You’ll like it, too, I promise.”

  She muttered something against him, but she was already nearly unconscious. The poor thing must have had an exciting day. If that cretin Aon did anything to her—harmed her in any way—I will make him pay for it in triplicate before I let him die.

  He walked toward the exit of the balcony. He would make good on part of his plan, anyway. Aon’s rooms had to be somewhere near the—

  After two steps, he paused.

  Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

  Furrowing his brow, he looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms. “What did you…what did you do to me?”

  He collapsed.

  26

  Ember woke up. Maybe. She wasn’t quite sure. She felt dizzy. Like she had drunk too much wine, gone to bed late, and woken up still a little tipsy from the night before.

  Nothing was worse than waking up drunk.

  But she didn’t remember drinking last night. She didn’t remember—

  Oh.

  Now she did.

  She sat up quickly and immediately regretted it. She groaned and fell back over, pressing a hand to her forehead. Rxa had—he’d bitten her and done something to her mind.

  He’s a blood-drinker like Lyon. He hypnotized me! The bastard—wait. Where did Rxa go? Why was she lying on a stone floor? No small part of her was impressed and surprised that she was still alive. When she could finally tell up from down, and the world seemed to stop insisting on spinning around her head, she tried to sit up again. Slower that time.

  She jerked in shock and scrambled back from what she saw.

  Drengil!

  When she hit something in her way, she glanced down at whatever she had found. And she jolted a second time. There was Rxa!

  But he wasn’t moving.

  And after a long, terrified moment, she realized…neither were the corpses. The drengil were standing there in the hallway, just…staring at her. At them. But doing nothing. She glanced back down at Rxa. The man was lying on his side. He was once more wearing his shattered mask. She had no idea if he was awake or not.

  “Rxa?”

  He didn’t respond. She nudged him. When he didn’t move, she reached to touch his neck to find a pulse. It was there, unevenly lurching beneath her fingers. It didn’t feel like any heartbeat that she had ever felt before. He did get his heart ripped out. Who knows what is moving his blood through his veins.

  More magic, I guess?

  But why was he unconscious? He had bitten her. Her face went warm at the memory of how it had felt. She was glad he wasn’t awake to see her embarrassed expression. Oh, by the old gods. She remembered moaning like a harlot, holding on to him and desperately needing more as he drank her blood.

  Is it supposed to feel that good? Or is there something wrong with me? Or both?

  Pressing her fingers to her throat, she found a sore spot, but no gaping wound. She had hurt herself far worse in the past by stubbing her toe on a rock. When she pulled her hand back, she was surprised not to see blood.

  Oh. I know what happened. With a long sigh, she glanced to the still-unmoving hungry corpses before looking back to Rxa. “My blood is poison to them. And if you’re like them—I’m poisonous to you, too.”

  Now she had to figure out what in the name of the pits she was going to do.

  Then…it hit her.

  The map. Aon had showed her the map…and the roads that led south to the Temple of Dreams. That was where Aon, Lyon, and Lydia must be going.

  He must have known this might happen. And he wanted her to take Rxa there.

  Somehow.

  She groaned. “Fuck.”

  Jakob was singing an old song his mother had taught him as he walked alongside Dtu in his enormous wolfen form at the head of the pack of survivors. They were mixed in with some of the King of Shadows’ people. Maverick, the Elder of Words, was riding on one of the strange horse-monsters nearby. The man was exceedingly grumpy and didn’t seem to like him very much. So, Jakob opted to stay with Dtu. No po
int in making unwelcome friends.

  Besides, Dtu’s second-in-command, Kamira, was more than friendly enough for his purposes. The nearly naked woman was walking beside him, her tail swishing behind her. He smiled brightly at her and stopped singing. “I wish I had a tail. It must be so much fun!”

  She chuckled. “I won’t lie. It is.”

  Jakob sighed wistfully. “I wish I could change my form like you do. I wish I could be a Varúlfur.”

  “I’m sure Dtu would like that, too. I’m sure he’d love to see what you’re capable of.” Kamira smirked, laying the innuendo on thick. The King of Moons swiveled his skull head toward them and let out a small grunt. That prompted Kamira to grin wider.

  “Oh, don’t tease him.” Jakob tucked his hands into the pockets of his new, fluffy, warm fur coat.

  “Save your words,” Dtu grumbled. “Teasing me is her favorite pastime.”

  “No, hunting my husband comes first. Teasing you is second,” Kamira retorted. “I promise you, he has it worse.”

  “I beg to differ. Lyon can escape whenever he likes. I’m trapped with you.”

  “Trapped!” Kamira laughed. “You’d be lost without me, old dog.”

  “Yes, whatever would I do with all the peace and quiet?”

  Jakob found himself smiling at how much the two shapeshifters clearly cared for each other. Even if they did seem to argue a lot. He listened to the two banter for a while. When they finally were finished, he chimed in again. “Why are we going north?”

  “To visit a friend,” Dtu replied. “Another royal. The Queen of Flames. Her armies will be pivotal in controlling the issue with the hungering dead. If we’re lucky, she’s already marching south.”

  “With Vjo, I hope.” Kamira shrugged. “The Queen of Words was visiting on political matters when everything went tits up.”

  “There’s so much to learn about your world.” Jakob looked up at the sky overhead. The permanent night didn’t bother him. He loved the stars—and Under certainly had plenty to go around. And all the big, bright, colorful moons painted the world in various shades of glowing light. “It’s so beautiful.”