Darkness Divine

by P. C. Cast

  “Lily,” Kreja called with a wave of her hand.

  Lily, the child-princess who would one day rule this clan, stood up from her throne atop the dais and walked to her mother’s side, her little body draped in velvet robes rather than the leather straps and skirts worn by the warrioresses.

  She had changed much in the past few months. No longer was this queen-in-training giddy and innocent. Once having run from camp to prove herself worthy of her people—thereby inadvertently beginning a war between the Amazons and the dragons, a war she’d thought had caused the deaths of Nola and another Amazon—she was now solemn, determined to become a worthy leader. She’d even relinquished her right to claim Brand the dragon shifter, another of the gods’ exiles, as her personal servant, and had offered him up to her people. He now sat among the other slaves.

  “You will not fight to the death,” Lily proclaimed in her soft voice. “But you will continue to engage each other until only one of you is left standing. It is she who will earn the right to bed the vampire.”

  After Nola’s own experience with the gods’ cruel contest, she had no desire to watch another. For Zane, however, she would watch. And she would wish.

  There was only a slight pause before Kreja said, “You may begin.”

  Immediately the women leapt into action. Metal clanged against metal, grunts abounded, and sand was flung in every direction. Bodies were collapsing, cries of pain echoing, as one pink-haired female savagely worked her way through the masses.

  Soon, she was the only one standing.

  Nola wanted to vomit.

  “And so we have a winner.” Kreja motioned to Zane with a wave of her hand. “Claim your prize, beloved. Know that we are proud of the strength and tenacity you have demonstrated today.”

  As the female approached, Zane trembled. In rage. Perhaps in fear.

  “I won’t let her have you,” Nola vowed, though she knew there was nothing she could do to stop what would happen.

  2

  The female was going to kill him, Zane thought dazedly, dispassionately.

  She’d won him, however long ago she’d fought for him—one day? Two? Weak as he was, he’d lost track of time. All he knew was that she’d tried multiple times to bed him. But she needed a hard cock for that, and he hadn’t given it to her.

  Denying her had delighted him.

  Now two of those wretched Amazons stood around him, staring down at his naked body. If he hadn’t been half-starved and teetering on the brink of total collapse, those stares would have sent him into a killing rage. He hated being looked at as much as he hated being touched.

  He’d spent too many centuries as the demon queen’s whore, hers to use, hers to hurt. And he’d suffered those indignities willingly, all for the love of a woman. A slave, as he was supposed to be now. Marina, that detestable queen, had promised to set his beloved free if Zane pleased her until she grew tired of him. But she’d never grown tired of him, and Cassandra, his chosen mate, had begun to hate him as a result. Yet, still he’d stayed, determined to finally win his prize.

  And then Layel, the vampire king, had done the impossible and drained the demon queen, finally freeing both Zane and Cassandra, and he’d thought to earn back her love. After all, everything he had done had been for her. Only, she’d fled him. For another man. Perhaps that was for the best.

  Zane was not the man he’d once been. He eschewed females and wanted no part of them. Wanted no part of sex. He shuddered at even the thought of it. The things he’d done…the things that had been done to him…sickness churned in his stomach. Had he eaten that day, he would have vomited.

  But then Nola had walked into his life. Beautiful, passionate, fierce Nola. A woman who hadn’t wanted him, who had rebuffed him. A woman he’d craved with every ounce of his being, despite what had been done to him. A woman the gods had taken from him. He did not know if she’d survived their island game or if the gods had set her free, but sometimes he would swear that he smelled her sweet scent, felt the gentle glide of her hands.

  The first time he’d seen her, he’d thought her a gift from the gods. For why else would he have been able to endure—no, enjoy—her touch and no other’s? Now, he thought that perhaps she’d been another curse. He craved her still, yet like Cassandra he could never have her. What did I do to deserve this?

  “I’m strong,” his “owner” said now, drawing his attention, “so of course he desires me. I mean, look at what I did to my competitors! Eighteen against one, yet I owned that arena. But he’s too weak to be claimed.”

  “He needs blood,” another said.

  “Yes, but if he’s given blood, he’ll be able to raise his head and bite me.”

  Both of the females shuddered.

  Did these Amazons—who abhorred the biting of flesh and the drinking of blood and who thought to rape him to steal a child from him—not realize the child of a vampire would most likely need to bite and drink blood to survive?

  Would they kill the halfling if it proved to be more vampire than Amazon? Even through the haze of weakness, rage sparked inside his chest. He would kill them first.

  Perhaps they meant to feed the child as they’d fed him, he thought next. The idea mollified him somewhat.

  Before his last escape attempt, they’d kept him nourished by allowing him three small cups of blood a day. Who had donated the blood, he didn’t know. Didn’t care. What they didn’t realize was that he never took from a living source. He only took from those he’d killed. As he was too weak to hurt them, they were in no danger of being bitten. Even starved as he was.

  He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy their fear and distaste.

  But all of that was moot, he knew. He would never leave a child of his behind. What was his, was his.

  “Did you try manipulating his rod?”

  “Of course. He’s not my first slave, you know.”

  “Well, give him blood, then bind his mouth. That way, he’ll be strong enough to bed but unable to nibble on you.”

  “Oh, excellent idea! Grab a goblet.” The pink-haired woman—he hadn’t cared to remember her name—palmed one of her daggers, sliced a groove in her wrist and held the wound over the offered goblet.

  His mouth watered at the sight and smell of that crimson nectar; his fangs elongated.

  She approached him and held the cup to his lips. Thankfully, her skin did not touch his. “Drink.”

  He obeyed, swallowing three precious mouthfuls. Instantly, warmth spread through him, followed on its heels by strength.

  “It’s working. His color is returning.” The cup was removed from his mouth, and he found his gaze locked with that of his captor. She was pretty, if he cared for such things. He didn’t. He only cared that she had pink hair rather than black, brown eyes rather than turquoise, and she did not smell like Nola. Like sea and storms and flowers.

  There was a pause, then a purr of agreement. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”

  “Don’t forget he’s mine,” was the snapped reply.

  “Well, his cock is still flaccid, so you won’t be claiming him any time soon,” the other Amazon lashed back.

  As the blood continued to work through him, the lethargy that had plagued him all these many days dissolved, leaving energy in his muscles, a sizzle in his bones. Escape, he thought, a growl working its way past his throat.

  Both Amazons jumped away from him with a yelp.

  “Hurry! Let’s bind his mouth.”

  “Don’t touch me!” Growls intensifying, Zane jerked at the chains circling his wrists and ankles. He hissed and snapped, kicking as much as he was able as the Amazons maneuvered around him. “No touching! Do you hear me? I’ll kill you.”

  Suddenly a golden ray of light spilled inside the tent, and he would have sworn he caught a glimpse of Nola.

  “No—” He stilled, his heart slamming against his ribs.

  His captor moved, reaching for his neck, blocking the vision.

  “Out of my way!” he
shouted, bumping his hip against hers and sending her toppling to her face. He’d imagined Nola before, there in the battle tent. This vision, he planned to enjoy as long as possible.

  Sure enough, there was a shimmering outline of long black hair, a glow of turquoise eyes, as Nola tried ineffectually to tug his captor away from him. He lost his breath. So lovely. His shaft hardened quickly and painfully. Nola. His sweetest tormentor.

  Sadly, the illusion didn’t last more than a few seconds. He wanted to scream and hurt and maim. To kill and be killed. The desire came too late, though, his stunned immobility costing him. The Amazon was able to leap to her feet and easily hook a thick strap of material around his mouth.

  “Finally.” Sighing with satisfaction, she leaned away from him, crouching on her haunches and smiling smugly. “And just as I suspected, your rod is—” Her words halted and her smile faded as his cock withered before her eyes. “But…you were…why…”

  He had only imagined Nola; he knew that, but he couldn’t stop his gaze from searching for another glimpse of her. To his dismay, he saw only furs, carved furniture and weapons. Even as his captor attempted to arouse him once more, stripping for him, caressing him, he did not stop searching.

  Finally, exasperated with him, the Amazon dressed and stormed from the tent, leaving him alone with his insanity.

  3

  As many times as Nola had been chained and used in her life, she knew the humiliation, frustration and helplessness Zane was feeling. He must want to kill Amelia, his new owner. She did.

  Hurting another Amazon went against every instinct Nola possessed, every rule she’d ever been taught, but she would have sliced the warrioress to pieces if she’d been able to grip a blade. Zane’s eyes had been so wild, his snarls desperate. And she’d been unable to aid him, had only been able to watch in horror.

  “I will take his place,” she shouted to the ceiling, not knowing if the gods were listening. Or if they even cared. Zane didn’t deserve this. No one did. But at least she had endured servitude before. The women wouldn’t rape her, of course, but they would work her and beat her, both of which she could survive.

  Air sucked through Zane’s nostrils, and his body suddenly jerked. Then he began struggling against his bonds again. Her attention whipped to him. He was staring directly at her, his dark gaze boring into her.

  “Zane,” she said, rushing to his side and kneeling. “Shh, now. Shh. You’ll only injure your wrists and ankles further.” Already he was bleeding, losing the blood he’d just been given.

  He tracked her every movement.

  Could he…no. Not possible. No matter how many times she’d wished otherwise, she’d remained as un-noticeable as the air he breathed. Besides, if he knew she was here, he would be fighting her as he’d fought Amelia. Perhaps even more violently. How many times, before this terrible punishment, had she rebuked his advances? Tried to hurt him? Called him vile names? All because she’d been too frightened of her feelings. I am not worthy of being an Amazon warrioress.

  Frantic, Zane rubbed his jaw against his shoulder until the material fell away from his mouth. “Nola,” he rasped. “Nola, Nola, Nola.”

  He could see her. Oh, gods. Oh, gods! Could she touch him? Her arm shook as she reached out, meaning to brush his hair from his face, but as always, her hand ghosted through him. She moaned in frustration.

  He laughed, the sound full of sweet satisfaction. “I’ve finally slipped over the edge of sanity and I don’t care.” He relaxed against the blankets spread out beneath him. “My Nola, here to comfort me. As beautiful as ever.”

  His Nola? A shiver moved through her. Oh, if only… “You aren’t imagining me, Zane. I’m truly here. I’ve been here since the day of your arrival.”

  Zane didn’t seem to hear her. His gaze was too busy drinking her in. “Of course I would imagine you like this, soft and lush, but still not mine to possess.”

  “Listen to me. The gods cursed me, as they cursed you, only I am not to be seen, heard or felt.” Until now. Why, why, why could she now be seen and heard but still not felt?

  Finally, her words seemed to take root. His eyelids narrowed and his lips pulled tight against his teeth, revealing the tips of those deadly fangs. “How can I see you now, then?” he asked, mirroring her thoughts.

  “I wish I knew,” she said on a sigh. Would others be able to see her, as well?

  “So. Another curse is to be heaped upon me. To see, but never to touch.” He turned his head from her, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her another second. That was the treatment she’d expected from him, but it still hurt. You deserve it. Take it like a warrior.

  At least he no longer thought himself crazy.

  “Why aren’t you with Brand?” he demanded.

  Brand, the dragon shape-shifter who had been cursed right alongside them. “I don’t…” What? She liked Brand, but she wasn’t concerned with his treatment. He had not fought his captivity like Zane. He had embraced the thought of an Amazon owner. Other than Lily, that is. Lily had been too young for him, and he’d been nothing more than a maid for her. Since she’d released him to the ownership of the other Amazons, though, he’d looked nothing but content.

  But even if he had not been enjoying himself, Nola still would have chosen to watch over Zane. His strength and determination, and even his wildness, drew her.

  Maybe because that wildness had never truly extended to her. Even when she’d stabbed both of his shoulders with spears, he had not attempted to hurt her. He had cried out for her, wanting to be with her.

  “Why haven’t you used your…gift to help you escape?” she asked, ignoring his question. Much as this man had to hate her, she wasn’t ready to voice her softer feelings. Even she didn’t understand her change from tormentor to tormented.

  His cheeks heated in embarrassment, but still he did not face her.

  He’d once used that gift on her. Had slipped inside her dreams and showed her how good it would be between them. How he would kiss and taste every inch of her body, enjoy her, help her enjoy him. “You can show the Amazons the destruction you will unleash if they fail to release you.”

  “The gods stripped me of the ability when they sent me here. I can no longer enter dreams. Or create nightmares. They also stripped me of my ability to transport myself to other locations with only a thought.”

  Damn them! “There has to be a way to free you. I wish I could leave camp and visit your king. Word has spread through Atlantis that he is wed now to my sister, Delilah. They would help you, I know it. And maybe, like you, they would be able to see and hear me. But I am bound to this camp, as surely as if I were shackled. I cannot leave its boundaries.” Or perhaps she could, now that part of her curse seemed to be lifted. She wanted to check, but couldn’t force herself to move away.

  Zane shifted even further away from her, and his chains rattled. It was another stark reminder of their doomed circumstances. “Why would you help me?”

  “Because I—” She peered down at her hands. Her fingers were twined together and twisting the leather of her skirt. They wanted to be on Zane’s body, learning his every nuance. What would make him gasp in pleasure? What would make him moan? “I owe you. I hurt you, and I’m sorry for that. Sorrier than I can ever express. I want—”

  “Enough,” he growled, cutting her off. “I don’t want your apology. I never did. I’ve always wanted you… your body.”

  Need trembled through her. “Yes.” Yes. That’s what she wanted, too. “But you can’t touch me. How…”

  “We will figure it out. Climb on top of me.”

  She did, straddling his waist. His eyes closed, and he arched up. She imagined his hard shaft rubbing against her and moaned. “Zane, I—”

  The entrance to the tent flapped, and Amelia strode inside. “Well, vampire. I have decided—” Her eyes widened, and she stopped. “Nola? What are you doing here?”

  Nola jumped up as though burned. She wanted to scream in frustration, but held her ton
gue. One question had been answered, at least. Others could see her. “Hello, Amelia.” Did she sound as breathless to the warrioress as she did to herself?

  “We thought you were dead.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  Amelia’s dark gaze swung to Zane, then back to Nola. “Either way, you will move away from my slave.”

  “Nola,” Zane said, and there was a warning in his tone.

  A warning of what? Nola didn’t face him, but squared her shoulders and forced her expression to harden. “How is he truly your slave when you have not yet battled every female who would lay claim to him? Amelia, I challenge you for the vampire.”

  4

  “Hurry! She’ll return any moment, and she’ll have others with her. Perhaps the entire army.”

  Zane watched as Nola tried and failed to jerk the head of his chains from the iron pole they were attached to, a pole that was anchored deep in the earth. As before, her fingers merely passed through the object.

  His shock had yet to diminish. Nola was here; Nola thought to help him. After her announcement, his captor had stormed out of the tent with every intention of speaking to the Amazon queen. Nola wanted him for her own.

  Earlier when she’d apologized to him, it had not been remorse thickening her voice. It had been desire. Then she’d climbed on top of him without hesitation, had moaned when he’d arched into her. He hadn’t been able to feel her, but oh, just the thought of doing so was enough for him.

  “How do you propose to fight her?” he demanded. “You cannot hurt her, and she cannot hurt you.”

  “I didn’t want to fight her. I wanted time. And why are you just lying there?” She peered down at him, hands on her hips, dark hair streaming wildly around her delicate face. There was the soldier he knew. “Fight free!”

  “You will come with me? If I escape?”

  “If I can, yes. I want that more than anything,” she added in a whisper.

  Again, there was no hesitation. There was even a flicker of hope in her magnificent eyes. She truly did not hate him.