by Raven Dark
I crossed the room to the opening of the passage. The entrance on the other side was less than twenty feet away. An easy run.
I lifted the visor on the helmet up and stepped into the passage.
With a resounding hiss, fire vented from the walls to either side of me. It blasted long and loud, spouting in a stream nearly long enough to fill the whole width of the passage.
So much for this being easy.
There were four vents on each wall, each larger than a dinner plate and spaced four feet apart. The fire spouted in bursts that made the flames look as if they came from the mouths of unseen dragons. They were also out of sync with each other, making it impossible to just run past them for the exit. I’d have to get past each vent and then stop before running past the next in order to avoid getting burned to a crisp.
A real life Garganthor’s Maze.
Timing was critical. I counted the seconds between each blast, calculating how long the fire lasted before cutting off. How long I had to stand between each vent before I had to move onto the next. The guard’s clothes wouldn’t provide much protection.
Shit, I was going to give my Kitten the fuck of her life when I got out of this.
Taking a breath, I waited for the blasts from the first vents closest to me to stop. The fire cut off with a hiss and a deep, hollow thud.
I leaped past the vents, stopping just short of the second set.
Fire lanced out from the second two vents, hot as a lick of the devil’s tongue, and inches from searing the flesh off my arms. Instinct tried to push me back away from the heat, but even half a step back would put me in the path of the flames that would, in half a second, lance out behind me. Penned in, I forced myself to wait until the blasts in front of me cut off.
The flames stopped. I leaped forward, halting before I ended up standing in the path of the third set of vents.
Just in time, because the flames shot out. It felt like I was standing in the middle of a kiln. It took all my will to wait until they cut off again.
I leaped. Flames blasted. My skin threatened to peel off. I hissed in pain at the heat.
The last set of flames seemed to go on forever. Desperation clawed at me. The heat halted my breath and threatened to turn me to ash.
“Fuck, come on!”
The flames cut off.
I ran for the entrance that led to the corridor.
A patrolman in the hall approached the doorway. Sweat dripping into my eyes, I ducked behind the wall.
As soon as he passed, I slipped into the hall and down the dark passage to a set of stone steps that led up to the house.
I’d made it out of the Trial by Water and Fire, but I was far from safe.
Assuming everything went according to plan, I had eight hours before I could let Pretty Boy and Steel in to carry out the next phase of our mission. I also had about the same amount of time to find more of those drops for my eyes for the times I couldn’t justify keeping the helmet on. If not, we’d have a whole other set of problems to deal with, and my yellow eyes would be the least of them.
I made my way along the hidden servant’s halls toward the main part of the house. Now I would have to start, what to anyone but me, Pretty Boy and Steel, would be my first shift as a J’nai soldier.
With any luck, my sweet Kitten would be waiting to be rescued and claimed at the end of this fucking Garganthor’s Maze, the evil king of Hell’s Burning would die a slow death, and then we’d get our woman home. Once we did, whether she liked it or not, she was never leaving the Grotto again.
Chapter 15
A Touch of Heaven
No matter how hard I wished for Julian to make an appearance, he didn’t show himself once.
Three monotonous days had passed since I’d seen Damien in that Throne Room. Under normal circumstances, he would have been the last person I wanted to see, but I needed to know his plans for me. With the injury to my jaw, I couldn’t have spoken to him anyway, but by the third day, other than being a little stiff, it was nearly back to normal, as long as I didn’t use it too much. Yet since that first day, Damien had made no appearance. I couldn’t help wondering if he was leaving me in the dark on purpose.
For the most part, over the first two days the only two people I’d seen were Herma and Griesha. Griesha took me through strengthening exercises for my jaw, as well as my shoulder. By the third day, my arm was a touch stiff, but the sling was gone, and I could use my arm for light tasks. By then, my head was also fine; it felt as if I’d never had a concussion at all.
Apparently, not everything Olan had said was a lie. Whether or not Julian was a real person or the manifestation of a virus, Griesha made sure to give me a regiment of medications. I didn’t know what all of them were, but I recognized one of the pills as the antiseizure medication Olan had prescribed. I could only assume that was the reason for the lack of dreams, or Julian’s presence.
Even though Damien wasn’t there, he made sure I had plenty to do to occupy my time. He gave me a lavish suite in his mansion’s slave quarters, with plenty of time to sit by myself and think. He allowed me access to his huge, fully stocked library, his expansive garden for long walks, and all the best food I could want. Strange how, with all the finery, the place still felt like nothing so much as a gilded cage, especially when loneliness began to seep in.
The worst part of having so much time alone was that it left far too much time for my mind to wander. To wander to my Four, to my mother, to the life I’d left behind in the Grotto. All the things it hurt too much to think about.
Too many times, my thoughts also turned to escape, but I shut them down. Such a thing was not only dangerous, but beyond impossible. Not only did I have no money, and would never be given any as a slave, nor did I have a way to get back to them without getting killed, but I was being shadowed by at least one guard at all times. There were two posted outside my door when I slept, one sitting nearby when I was awake. A guard even escorted me to the water closet, checking the room for anything I could use to escape or harm myself with before I went in.
No one let me lock any doors.
Hour after hour, I tried not to think of the freedom I’d once tasted with the Legion and had now lost. Of hours in Pretty Boy and Steel’s bed as they shared me to blissful release. Of hours in the Grotto’s meadows, reading with Steel. Of long walks with Hawk, talking about his days training as a warrior, and even Sheriff’s ornery, punishing touch.
I tried not to think of times I’d spent resting under Doc’s careful watch, listening to him talk medical shop. Of long hours at the laundering hole with Cherry, Emmy, Diamond, Tanya and sweet old Gretle, or of Dice and his stories of the days before the Legion became what it was. And I tried, oh Maker, how I tried not to think of my mother, and how worried she must have been. Of the family I had lost.
By the time a week had passed, it started to sink in with painful certainty. My Four weren’t coming for me. Either they didn’t know where I was and the dream about my mother had been just that, a dream, or…
Or…what?
I stared at the ceiling above my bed, a full week after my first day here. They wouldn’t just give up on trying to find me. They wouldn’t. But Damien’s obsession with me was such that, even if the connection between him and Olan wasn’t obvious to anyone who didn’t know what to look for, Hell’s Burning was such an obvious place to look, why hadn’t they?
I closed my eyes. Maybe they had tried to find me here. Maybe they had, and Damien had caught them.
No. If he had, there was no doubt in my mind that he would’ve made a point of letting me know just to hurt me. He’d have brought them to me, made me watch them die. My eyes stung with the obvious alternative, and I shoved it swiftly aside. They wouldn’t abandon me here. They wouldn’t give up on me, so I couldn’t give up on them.
Another day passed, and still I heard nothing that hinted at the Dark Legion being in the area. If they were, I felt sure I’d have heard about it somehow, from Damien, fro
m his J’nai, from the slave’s rumor mill.
If only I could have figured out Damien’s plan. Without knowing what he intended to do with me, I couldn’t hope to come up with a way to get back to them.
As soon as my injuries were healed enough, Damien offered me a single ray of light in the place that had once again become my dark world—a daily hour-long ride with Maja. By the end of the week, I’d grown used to the feel of riding her again, my muscles strong enough to take her at a gallop for nearly ten minutes at a time.
Riding on her back with the hot wind and the sun on my face was the only time I felt truly free. Unfortunately, here, freedom was only an illusion, and I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that anything Damien offered, even Maja, was truly mine. She was nothing more than another thing Damien could use to manipulate me.
As long as I complied with his wishes, I was allowed my daily ride.
Early morning, and the time for my ride, came on the eighth day, and it was no different than any other day. I dressed in my split riding skirt and headed out to the stable, my two guards always no more than two feet away.
I found Maja in her stall, grazing on a patch of hay. A smile split my face when she tossed her head excitedly the moment I appeared.
“Hello, beautiful girl.” I stroked her nose, burying my face in her pale mane and inhaling the smell of her. “Were you waiting for me? Were you waiting for me, Maja? Huh?” She nuzzled my hair. I gave her an apple from a bag I’d brought.
She munched the fruit, whickering as if in thanks.
“Yes, I love you, too.” I laughed and stroked her mane, then gave her another apple. She nosed the bag, looking for a third. “No, no. Only two a day. You know the rules. Let’s give you a good run, and you can have a couple of carrots.”
I turned to grab her tack off the wall, but a stablehand handed it to me.
“Thank you, sir.”
He bowed and walked deeper into the stable, readying the two other horses for my guards. When he turned his back to me, I caught a glimpse of long blond hair spilling from under his cap.
My chest tightened. Figures. I’d spent the last week trying not to think of my masters, and I had to end up with a stablehand that looked like Pretty Boy. He even had the same broad shoulders and the same shade of blond hair.
I sighed and saddled up Maja before leading her out of the stall.
The guards waited at the entrance, two feet from the stable doors. The stable had only two exits, double doors at each end. The guards stood at one exit where they could see the other at all times. Of course, the two stoic-faced J’nai with their polished black boots and pristine black uniforms wouldn’t think of setting foot in a smelly stable. In here was the only time they would let me get more than ten feet away.
Someone ought to have them clean out the stalls. The thought caused a giggle to escape before I could stop it.
“Something funny, slave?” one of them snarled.
“No, nothing at all, sir.” I waited for the stablehand, a different one, to hand the two men their mounts’ reins, then swung up into the saddle.
It took all my willpower not to let Maja rear up and kick them.
It was equally difficult not to take off at a gallop, instead waiting for the guards to mount up and follow me out of the stable yard.
Maja and I rode for twenty minutes, alternating between a trot and a full gallop. It gave me pleasure to see the guards fall behind on their slower, larger mounts, unable to keep up. If not for the Wall at the edge of the grounds, I would have bolted with her straight into the desert toward freedom.
Feeling the wind in my hair and the sun on my skin was wonderful, but I couldn’t help being reminded of how a different kind of ride felt. That was what I loved about riding with my Four, with my arms around Steel, Pretty Boy, Hawk, or Sheriff. I’d felt so carefree, so safe with them, with the growl of a bike’s engine between my legs and my arms full of a big, strong, dangerous man.
Thoughts of my masters wrapped themselves around me, refusing to be shut out. I’d have given my last breath to see Pretty Boy’s smirk or Steel’s dancing blue eyes, to feel Hawk or Sheriff stroking my hair, holding me, just for an instant.
With a will of its own, my mind wrestled with their absence. My chest constricted, the tears that I’d refused to let fall trickling down my cheeks while my heart threatened to shatter with loss.
“What are you doing, slave?” one of my guards demanded, a few paces back. “Ride or go back to the stables.”
I dashed the tears from my cheeks, refusing to let them see my moment of weakness.
After a short gallop, I allowed us to rest. I unpacked the bag I had brought from the house and spread out a picnic blanket on the sand. The guards stood over me, silent, waiting while I ate.
I did my level best to ignore them.
After my lunch, I took off again, walking Maja slowly back toward the stable, savoring these last few moments to myself, however much of an illusion they were.
My guards followed every step, watching like eagles. The hour was almost up, but at least I could spend a little more time with Maja, brushing her down and feeding her.
Back at the stables, I dismounted and led Maja slowly back into the stable. The guards remained at the doors, as usual, their arms crossed. Waiting.
I shook my head and brought Maja into her stall, then took my time taking off her saddle and tack. I went to hang the saddle, but a man’s hand settled on it, lifting it to the hook.
“I’ll hang that for you. A gorgeous Princess like you should never have to lift a heavy saddle like that.”
Princess…
My head whipped around to look at the man who’d stepped into the stall behind me.
The same stablehand who’d given me Maja’s gear before stood there. He tipped up the cap he’d worn low on his face, giving me a full view of his stunning blue eyes and knee-weakening smirk.
My heart leaped.
It couldn’t be…
“Pretty B—”
I didn’t get to finish before he rushed to me, one finger to his lips, his other hand across my mouth. Before I could blink, I felt the rear wall of the stall hit my back and his powerful frame had me pinned. He kept his finger to his lips until I nodded frantically. My heart felt as big as a house. He slid his hand slowly away from my mouth.
“Pretty Boy, how… Just…how?”
He drew me hard against him, or maybe I’d clutched him to me. “It’s a long story, Princess. Are you okay?” He grabbed my face, looking me over.
I cradled his face, kissed his hands, loving the feel of his warm fingers on my lips, on my cheeks. Tears fell on his knuckles.
“Are the others here?” I whispered.
“Yeah, they are, baby. They are. We’re working on a plan to get you out of here.”
I squeezed him close, half hoping that, if I released him, he wouldn’t vanish.
“I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here! I thought…” I shook my head, a broken laugh escaping me.
“You thought we weren’t coming for you.”
I nodded, feeling suddenly ashamed.
He sighed into my hair. “We came as soon as we could.”
Nodding again, I drew back, then smiled through my tears as I took in his uniform. “You look ridiculous, Master.” Well, the tan-colored pants I could live with; they were skin tight, and showed off every ripped muscle in his hips and legs, clinging to his impressive package, leaving the shape of his cock visible.
When I brought my gaze to his, he wore the biggest heart-stopping smile I’d ever seen.
“Shut up and listen to me, will you? We need another two days or so to learn everyone’s routine, but especially Damien’s. Tell me everything you can. What he does every second of the day.”
I tried to calm my breathing, tried not to think of the guards. Focusing on the matter at hand, I gave him a rundown of my former master’s daily rituals.
“Are there any parties or functions wh
ere he’ll have lots of guests for us to blend in with?”
I shook my head. “He’s too watchful for that. Too paranoid.”
“It’s all right, it doesn’t matter. We’ll find an opening.” He cradled my face again, resting his forehead against mine. “I missed the fuck out of you.” His hand cupped the back of my neck in warmth. “Look, I don’t have much time. How long does it take you to brush Maja down?”
“A few minutes. Ten, if I drag it out. But the guards, they’re right at the doors.”
“I don’t care.” His voice was suddenly rough. “Turn around.”
“What?”
His eyes were pure hunger before he put his mouth to my ear. “Turn.”
My heart hammered in my ears with the realization of his intent. But every cell in my body hummed with desire, too. Especially when his hands squeezed my ass, pressing me hard against his cock.
“Master, you have to get out of here. The guards—”
“Won’t set a foot inside this place, and you know it. Turn around. Now.”
Oh, Maker, this wasn’t happening. I wanted it to happen, needed it to happen. I was terrified it would. I was terrified the guards would decide to come over here and find him. Of what Damien would do to him and the others if he found them, and what he’d do to me.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Princess.”
I bit my lip around a smile. I might have been back in my former master’s custody, but the command in this man’s voice and the roughness of his hands left no doubt that he still owned me. I still belonged to my Four.
Already dripping wet between my legs, I spun eagerly in his arms, putting my back to him.
Even before he undid the front of my dress and yanked it off my shoulder, my legs were already spread, feet apart, my hands gripping the wall of the stall in front of me.
Pretty Boy shoved me against the wall, grinding himself against my ass. The hard length of his cock had my sex aching to the point of pain. He bit my shoulder hard, and I almost cried out, half pleasure, half pain.