The Darkling's Desire
Page 4
He liked it, even in this odd, dangerous situation he liked it.
Petra shook her head slowly from side to side, the light of the moon glowing in her eyes as she moved. Jasper thought that the reflection made her look more than a little crazy.
Petra smiled at him, reached out a hand in his direction. “I’m surprised that that little brain of yours hasn’t figured things out by now.”
That “little brain” was whirling now, trying to make a connection, to discover what Petra was here for.
“The past is the past. It doesn’t explain why you are here.” Jasper turned back to Petra, still glaring. None of it made sense. He wanted to hear an explanation from her deceitful lips, but was also buying time. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Anastasia had stumbled his way, not if she was Petra’s protégé.
“I’m here to finish what my little one here couldn’t.” Even though her teacher spoke in sweet, innocent tones, Jasper could feel Anastasia tense beside him.
He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and to remove her from danger. He wished that he could wrap them both in shadows. Petra might have been an Amazon, but she was human. She would never be able to match his speed.
He could not pull Anastasia close, though. Petra may not have been fast, but she was cunning. He had learned that firsthand.
Petra began to move, waltzing toward them with that slow sway of her hips, the one that had seduced him before.
“That’s far enough!” He barked out his words. Even if the past hadn’t happened, there was something about the woman, something dark seeping from her very core, that set his animal instincts screaming.
Petra pouted, her teeth worrying her glossy lower lip.
“That’s not very nice. Especially not when I’m here to do us all a favor.”
“What favor? Why are you here, Petra?” Jasper felt…was it proud? Yes, proud that Anastasia kept the tremble out of her voice, even though he could hear her pulse quickening. “I am doing my job.”
“Oh, that.” Petra waved a dismissive hand in the air. “That will be done. But first…” Moving faster than Jasper had thought that a human could move, Petra materialized beside Anastasia, taking the younger woman’s hand in her own.
“Doesn’t she remind you of someone, Jasper? Someone you knew once?” Deliberately mimicking, Petra cocked her head like the younger woman, mirrored her stance. And suddenly Jasper could see it, the hints of resemblance. The curve of the cheek, the shape of the eyes.
How had he not seen it before? Even seeing, he didn’t know what it meant.
He was sick of the bullshit, and said so.
“Petra, cut the crap. What the fuck are you doing here? What do you want with Anastasia?”
Petra reached a hand out for him again, as if to stroke his face. He gnashed his fangs at her.
She laughed, a sound as light as fairy bells. Then her face hardened, her age becoming more apparent in the lines that formed harshly, bracketing her lips and eyes.
“Anastasia is my niece. Her mother, my sister, was raped by a Darkling just like you.”
* * *
Anastasia felt as if she had been struck in the stomach with the nunchakus—those heavy wooden bars attached by a chain— that Petra had always favoured and she never had.
Her niece? She was Petra’s niece? The information coated her thoughts like sludge, viscous and slimy, poisoning every memory that it touched. She wanted to lean in close to Jasper, to glean comfort from his touch, but the glint in Petra’s eyes told her that that would not be a wise move.
“What…why?” Anastasia reached for the empty blade sheath at her hip, her eyes flicking to where the silver laid in the mud when she found the worn leather barren. “You’ve never told me this. I’ve known you since I was a child.” What she neglected to say was that this explained why she had never felt completely at ease around her mentor. Though she had always treated Petra as tradition dictated that she must, she had always found the other woman’s presence…unsettling.
She had never trusted her as much as she felt she should, had always blamed herself for the lack.
“It was for your own good, child.” Anastasia gritted her teeth at the so-called endearment, the noise audible to Jasper’s ears.
“Petra. Get on to it, or we’re going. We have things to do, missions to accomplish.” Jasper sounded bored, but Anastasia thought she detected the slightest hint of upset beneath his words. This time he did reach for Anastasia, his fingers resting lightly on the small of her back.
Mine, was what his touch seemed to mean, and though Anastasia wasn’t sure if it was genuine or if it was just for her protection. Mine, and fuck with her at your own peril.
Petra chuckled once more, as if to prove a point, and then her face sharpened, honing in on Jasper like a blade.
Anastasia’s mind whirled, her instincts screaming at her to get to the fallen blade. As an Amazon she was never helpless, but she did not want to face the deadly woman before her empty-handed.
“Thanks to that soulless vermin, Natalia died giving birth to this Halfling. Surely you have noticed that she is more than human. Her heartbeat, so slow. Her strength, more than a human possesses. I need Anastasia’s full powers to be awakened, and you are going to do it for me.” And there was yet another blow.
She was what? What on earth was a Halfling? She had never heard of it before, she was certain. Even as her memory flipped rapidly through the pages of her ancient history texts, the ones she had been made to memorize as a part of her training, the word somehow made sense, a title to put on the definition of herself that she had held throughout her life.
Hadn’t she always been a little bit stronger, a little bit faster? Enough that she hadn’t always paid attention to her training when she was supposed to?
As she saw the deadly intent in Petra’s eyes, she saw now that having breezed through those years, having not learned all that she could, was maybe not a good thing.
The light shining in her mentor’s gray eyes was crazed, and Anastasia felt something sick snake through her gut.
Why had Petra waited for so long? Why hadn’t she done as she wished with Anastasia over the long years in which they had trained together?
It had to have something to do with Jasper.
“Why…what do you want, Petra?” Even as Anastasia spoke, she knew. Petra wanted Anastasia, who apparently had inherited some kind of powers from her Darkling father.
One Halfling would be no use for anything except maybe as a super-Amazon, to conduct the Carpathians’ missions better and faster.
Many Halflings, however…well, that would be something else entirely. How could more Halflings be made?
“What do you need more Halflings for, Petra?” Beside her Jasper stood, tense but outwardly calm. She felt better, having him at her side, even though her hands were fisted so tightly that her veins swelled out of her skin.
She felt…she didn’t know what, exactly, she felt for him. But it was strong, and it was true. She knew, somehow, that she trusted him, cared for him, more than anything or anyone else in her life.
Still, the nerves were there. She was a warrior, she reminded herself. She would be fine, even without him.
But having him there was infinitely better.
“The Carpathian Amazons are a proud race. We are ancient, noble women. We should rule the supernatural world.” Petra lifted her chin as she spoke, her eyes glinting feverishly. “Instead, w
hat do we do? We serve the very beasts that killed my sister. The beasts that kill so many humans, even Amazons, their sworn allies, if the hunger strikes.”
Anastasia swallowed, hard, and opened her mouth to speak, but Petra continued with barely a pause.
“Natalia was more than an Amazon—she had a sixth sense. Some things from the future were shown to her. She knew that her daughter would one day meet the Darkling who could awaken her full powers—the only vampire who could. That vampire would be a soldier, and her daughter—my niece—would throw her life away for love of this creature.” Petra bit her lip, and Anastasia saw tears that glittered like ice in the other woman’s eyes. “I knew then that I had to change part of that prophecy. I needed your powers to do it. But an Amazon of my blood will never love a Darkling. No, my blood will help me rid the world of them instead.”
Anastasia choked on the words that leapt into her throat, a jumble of everything that she wanted to say. Petra’s words had so many thoughts racing through her mind—questions about her mother, understanding of the strength of her feelings for Jasper, sickness at her aunt’s betrayal. Before Jasper or Petra could speak again, the thoughts bubbled over, her voice dripping from her lips like acid.
“Our purpose is ancient and noble, as is our treaty. And if we decide we no longer wish to uphold the terms of our treaty, the noble thing to do is to request its dissipation to the Karpaty Council. Not to use me as a tool for war. I don’t know how you think that you are going to make more…more Halflings, but I will not be a part of this. I believe in the way of our people.”
Anastasia saw the sneer curl on Petra’s lips, knew that the woman was going to tell her exactly how she planned to replicate Anastasia and overthrow the Karpaty Council. Though she wanted to know, she wanted to live more. She and Jasper moved at the same time, but Petra was faster.
She laughed as she resumed pacing in front of them, having stooped down to scoop Anastasia’s knife from the ground. She waved it through the air theatrically, her eyes glinting madly, before stopping right in front of Jasper and extending her palm.
With the wicked tip of the silver blade, she drew an ancient-looking rune into her palm. The blood welled up from the shallow cut, and Anastasia saw the flicker pass over Jasper’s face. He had underestimated Petra once again, had been cocky, overly secure in the strength and speed of his race.
And here was a new problem.
Jasper hadn’t fed for hours, and unless she was very much mistaken, the joining that they had just experienced had stirred his appetite. The scent of Petra’s blood was ripe in the air—even Anastasia could smell it. If she focused and tried to sense beyond the coppery tang that was apparent to her human side, she could detect exotic spices and perfume, a tantalizing odor.
What must it smell like to Jasper? Even if it was no longer exactly to his taste, a starving man would not refuse a meal because it wasn’t exactly to his liking.
She watched, tension bracketing every muscle in her body as Jasper growled before running his tongue over the length of his fangs.
“You are playing a dangerous game.” Jasper looked away from her slowly, stiffly, as if the movement cost him. “If I am pushed, who says it will not be you that I drink from?”
“Ooh, I’d love a good bite.” Petra grinned at him, and Anastasia felt her stomach roil with revulsion. “But I am not what you crave, and animals will always go for the easier kill. You will drink from her, you will bite her, and her latent powers will be awakened. Then I will take her blood, with its new genetic code, back to the Ukraine.” Petra smiled again as Anastasia furrowed her brow, trying to follow the stream of consciousness. What would Petra do with the blood back home? She was a warrior, not a scientist.
“I am not the only one who has been hurt so deeply by the Darklings. There are others who support this cause.” The curve of Petra’s ruby lips sent shivers down Anastasia’s spine. “You cannot resist it, Jasper. Natalia saw what the depth of your feelings for each other would be.”
Petra again looked at Jasper, and the look was tender and cruel at the same time, full of past intimacies. Anastasia understood then that her lover had also once been with her mentor.
Instead of making her sad, she was enraged.
Petra would not lure him in again.
“You can bite her now, while you still have control, or I can push you some more. The outcome may not be as you like then.” Petra drove the blade more deeply into her palm, causing more rich redness to stream over her skin, to drip to the ground. She gasped with a nearly sexual pleasure at the sensation. Anastasia heard Jasper swallow thickly, saw his pupils dilate as the scent hit his nose.
She knew that he had lived a long time, that he must have gained some semblance of control. But he hadn’t fed all day, not that she had seen, and his hungers were aroused from their loving.
She saw the bloodlust close in, watched him bear down, pushing through the hunger. It looked as if he was trying to sprint underwater, working so very hard so very little result.
He wouldn’t give in. Anastasia knew that he wouldn’t drink from Petra. His stubbornness, his will, wouldn’t let him. If the bloodlust overtook him, that only left her.
Though Anastasia would have given her blood willingly to remove the pain that she saw distorting his features, that would be playing right into Petra’s hands.
Anastasia couldn’t allow her instincts to take over completely—this was too delicate of a situation.
What could she do?
Jasper shook his head, narrowed his eyes. Anastasia watched as he shifted his stare from the cool blond of his past to her own features, and knew that she wasn’t alone.
They locked eyes, gray staring into green. Anastasia wished with all of her might that mind reading was in her repertoire of purported powers. She knew that Jasper was plotting something—he was not the kind of man to stand idly by in a dangerous situation. She was not the kind of woman to do so, either—but what if whatever she did interfered dangerously?
Anastasia snuck a quick glance at Petra, who was smirking at the pain that was creeping over him. Her attention was focused entirely on him. Rage burned through Anastasia’s veins.
She would have to take Petra down. Jasper was slowly losing control.
Dread formed into a heavy ball in the pit of her stomach.
“Wouldn’t you just die for a taste?” Petra extended her hand, dripping with blood, and even as Anastasia narrowed her eyes, planning to grab the knife Jasper lunged. He sprang at Petra with his fangs gnashing, aiming for her throat. There was not as much force behind his movement as there would have been if he had recently fed, but it was still enough to knock her off balance.
Anastasia leaped onto Petra as soon as Jasper sprang into motion, understanding instantly that their only chance lay in their combined strength. Petra screeched, an otherworldly noise that reverberated through the clearing. Blood from her hand smeared across Jasper’s face, and Anastasia sensed more than saw his attention waver.
Petra managed to connect with the base of his skull with her spiked heel, and he reeled. Anastasia made the emotional mistake of reaching for him as he fell, and Petra flipped her onto the ground, then had her back up and in a choke hold before she could blink.
Clutching a hand to the side of his head, Jasper rolled, sprang to his feet, shaking his head as if to clear it. It was too late. Anastasia’s world was beginning to gray from lack of air, and only fury kept her from passing out.
&nbs
p; This woman had used Anastasia her entire life as a pawn in her sick game. She had no doubt that Petra would kill Jasper as soon as he had bitten Anastasia. She didn’t know what, exactly, they had together yet, but she’d be damned if Petra would take it away, too.
Jasper could not make a move toward his former lover without risking that the older Amazon would snap Anastasia’s neck.
“Glamour her.” She choked the words out, could not understand why Petra laughed.
“That doesn’t work so well on me, does it, love?” Petra stroked a hand through Anastasia’s hair, and Jasper growled.
“She’s right.” Each word was bitten off, full of rage. “She can’t be glamoured.”
Anastasia knew then that this was all on her. And despite her former misgivings about facing off against her mentor, she was ready to kill if she had to.
Reacting purely on instinct, Anastasia kicked Petra’s ankle with her solidly booted foot. The slim joint revealed by the ridiculously high heels snapped and Petra fell to one knee, hissing. She still clutched the knife tightly in her palm, and swung it wildly while trying to regain her footing, her face contorted in pain.
With an extra burst of her slightly more than human speed, Anastasia landed a blow in Petra’s gut, gaining a shallow slice across her forearm in return. As Petra doubled over, Anastasia caught the silver blade in her own palm, wresting it away from her mentor and slicing through the flesh of her palm like butter.
The pain was bright, crimson fireworks showering down in front of her eyes. Inhaling as she did while practicing her calming yoga, Anastasia willed her focus to hone into a narrow point. She struck Petra on the back of the skull with the heavy handle of the knife, hard enough that even her battle-hardened warrior of a mentor fell, momentarily stunned.
Anastasia backed away rapidly, putting space between herself and Petra before blanching and clutching at the worse of her wounds. Her blood dripped to the ground, droplets of her life’s essence, and she hoped that Jasper could resist their siren call.