by Nesa Miller
“I will tell you in time.” He leaned against the doorjamb, watching her in the mirror. “You’ll find a brush and comb in the drawer to your right. I will tell you this. I underestimated the power of the orb, or perhaps it was you I underestimated. Either way, once you entered the Alamir, I lost you for a time.”
“You are so full of shit, Midir. You’re telling me you orchestrated it all…the murder, the orb, the change?” She rolled her eyes. “No one knows if they’re Alamir until it happens.”
Her words made him laugh. “Such eloquent language, mon-” She cut a stern look at him, “milady.” He continued to smile. “My brother has said as much on repeated occasions. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. You’re not ready for the whole story, but you soon will be.”
Etain worked the comb through the tangles in her hair. “Was Dar part of your plan, or was it just dumb luck?”
“A bit of both,” he admitted. “I let you go, but you came back to me. It is proof we belong together.”
“You kid yourself, Midir. This mark I share with Dar proves otherwise. Not even you can change that.”
Raising an eyebrow, he shifted his weight. “It will change with his death. His power will become my power. His blood will become my blood. Then you will realize it is I to whom you are bound.”
“You're insane.”
“Perhaps. When Dar turns up here, which is inevitable, he'll have a special surprise waiting for him.”
“I don't suppose you're gonna share that little tidbit, are you?”
“At the appropriate time, mon petit.” He moved closer, twining a damp tendril around his finger. “Since you’re feeling better, let’s get to training.”
She tried to pull away. “You have nothing to teach me.” Etain thought she saw a glimmer in his eyes, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared.
The tendril became a handful of hair. “Your impudence does not bode well for your friends. I hear your mage left behind four beautiful children.” Their eyes met in the mirror – hers filled with pain at the reminder of Spirit; his, a guarded threat. “Would you like to watch while I take them down one by one?”
Etain jabbed an elbow into his ribs, pushing him away. “You are despicable. If I have my way, you’ll be dead before dark.”
Midir coughed, holding his side. “If you do as I say, those brats will never know I exist.”
Moments passed as she pondered the options. Deciding cooperation may be the best avenue, for now, she looked away. “Am I to be completely humiliated by training in the raw?”
“An enticing proposition, but no. I have prepared for your comfort.” He jerked his head toward the bedroom, still gripping his side. “Everything you need is in the armoire.”
Etain cut a wide path around him. Too focused on Midir, she’d not given much notice to what was in the room. A dressing table, sitting before a generous window, held beautiful bottles, jars, and various items for her hair. Beyond the dressing table… How’d I miss that monstrous thing? She appreciated the artistry of the carved doors, but it wasn’t to her taste. Too masculine. She opened the armoire, finding an assortment of leathers on padded hangers.
Recovered from her assault, he smiled. “I didn’t know your favorite color, so I had several made.”
She eyed the array of colors. “Black is the only color for me now.”
The smile disappeared from his face. “Then wear the black. I’ll have more made. The others will be thrown out.” He stormed to the door. “Get dressed and meet me in the courtyard.”
She took her time, luxuriating in the suppleness of the leather, admiring her reflection in the mirror. “Nice fit.” The man had spared no expense. Too bad… You’re wasting your time and money, bucko. She gathered her damp hair back into a clip. “All I need from you is your death.”
As soon as she stepped into the courtyard, she had to duck and roll to avoid the blade aimed at her neck. Hunched down, she assessed the perimeter as another came at her from the side. Rising up slightly, she spun to her right, extended a leg, and knocked the would-be assailant onto his demon ass. She grabbed his fallen sword and rolled again, coming to her feet in a crouched position. Two more demons charged in. She sidestepped the one to the left, raising her sword to block an attack from the right and cut under with a fist to his gut. Etain twisted away, the demon’s dagger in her grasp. With a flick of the wrist, she stabbed the other in the shoulder as he breezed past. Parrying another onslaught, she ended with a drop down sidestep, knocking her opponent off-balance, and finished the job with a swift boot to his ass.
High on adrenaline and sword ready, she turned at the sound of footsteps.
Midir blocked her move with ease. “Impressive. You’re a natural.”
“Thank the gods. My life is complete.” She lowered her blade, prepared to step past him.
“You're not done here,” he said, offering her a tankard. “Refresh yourself. You have more work to do.”
She eyed the drink. “If it brings us closer to your end, I’m happy to carry on. But if it involves Dar, I won't fight him.” Thirst won over doubt.
“The death of my brother is a pleasure for me only. I train you for our conquest of the Alamir.”
She peered over the edge of the mug. “Conquest of the Alamir?” She rolled her eyes. “You have lost it.” He turned as she walked past. Instincts blazing, she swung back, the mug whizzing mere centimeters past his head. She curved over and back, deflecting his blow with her sword. “Face it, Midir. I’ll never be with you, or for you.”
He launched a brutal attack, each word he spoke accentuated with the strike of his blade, forcing her back, step after step.
“Why do you persistently deny a love that is…for you…and you alone?” His eyes glowed with a palpable evil. “He will use you and toss you aside like a worthless whore.”
She growled through clenched teeth, bringing her blade down, pushing his to the ground. You like to think you know him, but you know nothing.” Etain took the advantage, forcing him back to the outer wall. She moved in for the kill, but her vision suddenly blurred. Rather than run him through, she ran into him. She felt hands on her arms, giving her support. It was a struggle to lift her head, but she had to look into his face. Nothing made sense.
“Dar?” Midir pushed her off and slashed at her with his blade. She wobbled, barely able to stay on her feet, dropping her sword. “What're you doing?” she asked, her attention on his face, in spite of the blood trickling down her arm. He slashed the other one. “What are you doing?”
“Teaching you the difference between a master and amateur.”
He lurched forward, angling his sword overhead. She stumbled, landing on her backside. His blade came sweeping down. Twisting at the last moment, she reached for her sword, deflecting his strike.
Hour after hour, he continued the onslaught, switching personas from Midir to Dar, then back to Midir. Occasionally, he allowed her a moment of rest, just long enough to quench her thirst with the potion he’d made especially for her. Then the assault would resume. Physically, he drove her to exhaustion. Mentally, he kept her off-balance. Emotionally, he aimed to destroy her completely.
His taunts were relentless…mocking her dead family, ridiculing her for willingly taking his blood, and expounding on her ignorance in siding with Dar. However, the taunts that cut her to the core were those about Dar no longer wanting her. They spoke to a primal fear. After all, it was Faux who carried his child, not her.
By the end of the day, traumatized and defeated, she collapsed at his feet, her heart broken.
Dar! screamed through her head.
Midir snapped his fingers, setting two servants in motion.
“Run a hot bath and leave her to soak. I’ll be up soon.”
They each placed a clawed hand under an armpit, hauling Etain from the yard and into the castle. In the bedroom, they dumped their burden on the floor and busied themselves with preparing the bath. Unbeknownst to them, their senseless chatter
roused the sleeping warrior.
Damn…still alive.
With the preparations completed, they shuffled into the bedroom, neither of them noticing Etain awake and aware. One kneeled down, reaching for the buttons of her top, while the other worked on removing her boots. A well-placed fist against a soft demon jaw sent the first one sliding across the floor. The other received a resounding kick to the knee, bringing him down with a thud. Despite her objections, they picked themselves up and returned to their ministrations.
She batted at them with hands and still booted feet. “Leave me the hell alone! I don’t need your help.”
Flustered, the top demon bellowed, “We must place you in the bath as the master instructed. Let us do our job.”
Etain pushed them off one more time and rolled to a crouch. “Keep your clammy paws off me.”
“Miss…,” one began, stepping forward. Watery eyes widened when Etain sprang forward. Two hard punches to his face and he was out. She turned to the other. With a look of terror, he ran to the door, screaming like a child, tripping over the threshold. He picked himself up, falling again when the body of his unconscious cohort collided into his back.
“Tell your master to go to hell.” She slammed the door and threw the lock in place. Sinking to the floor, the pain crept in, reminding her of the brutal day. “He will not break me.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Maybe a hot bath would help, master or no master.”
Pushing her stiff body up, she trekked to the bath, stripping off her ruined leathers as she moved. Just as she eased herself down into the water, there was a bang on the bedroom door. She leaned back, wishing its magic could make all her aches and pains go away.
A moment later, another source of pain kicked the door open. She relaxed into the water, eyes closed. Aware of him looming over the bath, she dismissed him with a wave of a hand. “Go away, Midir. You’ve done enough damage today. I’ve had quite enough of your attempts to break me.”
“I have two servants with broken bones who say otherwise.” A shrug was her only response. He trailed a finger across her bare shoulder. “Your fighting today was flawless. Such graceful strength.” She slid deeper to drown his voice out, but he pulled her up to face him. “Rest for now, lady. Tomorrow is a new day with new challenges. I have business outside the castle tonight, so I won’t be joining you.” He leaned in with a heated kiss. “But tomorrow evening will be ours.” He left her to bathe in solitude.
“Good riddance,” she said, scrubbing a hand across her mouth. A handy loofah made short work of the dirt and grime on her flesh, but no amount of scrubbing could remove the lingering sensation of his touch.
Wrapped in a towel, she walked back into the bedroom and rummaged through the armoire. Amongst the clothes, she discovered a long purple silk robe, her favorite color, slipped it on, and ventured downstairs for a bite to eat.
Fortunately, no one seemed to be about. Happy to be left alone, she peeked into each room until she found the kitchen.
All the luxuries. I shouldn’t be surprised.
The refrigerator offered a selection of sliced ham, cheese, and fruit. After filling a small plate, she found a selection of crystal glassware in a nearby cabinet. With plate in one hand and glass of water in the other, she made her way down the hall. Taking Midir at his word that she would not be disturbed, she chose to enjoy her simple meal in the library.
Setting her treats on a small table next to a beautiful red chaise, she sat down and relaxed back, closing her eyes. She stroked the soft velvet, thinking of how decadent it all felt.
Her eyes popped open, scanning the room in front of her. She listened for any noise. Hearing none, she reached for the glass of water, taking a sip, then rolled a piece of cheese into a slice of ham. Intrigued by the books, she ventured to the shelves for a closer look. Many of the volumes were duplicates of those she’d seen in Dar’s library. Again, she was struck by how alike these two men were, yet so different. If I’d met Midir first… She shuddered, not daring to complete the thought.
One heavily gilded spine caught her eye. Thankful for the distraction, she shoved the rest of the ham into her mouth as she needed both hands to remove it from the shelf, and carried it to the chaise. Opening the cover, she breathed in the smell of old paper, caressing the delicate pages. The title page was several leaves in with “VonNeshta” illuminated in gold leaf.
Thumbing past names and drawings of VonNeshta ancestors, she found portraits of two young, seemingly innocent boys. One was fair-haired with blue eyes, the other dark-haired and green-eyed. Memories of the visions she’d seen after a blooding with Dar told her these faces belonged to the brothers. She smiled, tracing a finger over Dar’s baby face.
So handsome, even then…and blonde.
The next pages were paintings of a man and a woman, who were undoubtedly their parents. Dar had his father’s eyes. Midir was the image of their mother. Even his hair was the same as hers…long, dark, and thick.
She realized then that Dar had never said much about his mother, wondering what the story was between them. When he told her of the slaughter of his family, he’d not mentioned his mother. She presumed the lady must have died when the boys were young.
The next page held pictures of a honey blonde woman with two small children, a girl and a boy. “Alexia,” she whispered, admiring her beauty. “These must be Victoria and Henrí. What a beautiful family, Dar.”
Turning the pages, she thought it odd Midir would
keep a family album. “You murder them all, yet keep their pictures? Creepy.”
Toward the end of the book, the entries changed to familiar names and modern photographs. Etain’s mouth dropped open, seeing a portrait of her mom, dad, and brother. Her hand trembled, caressing their faces. It must have been taken before her birth. Her brother, Robert, looked no more than two years old. They all looked so young. Tears formed, falling down her cheeks, splattering on the protective film over the photos.
On the next page were photos of her and her brother. Not portraits or family pictures. These were covert. Taken without their knowledge or consent, and long before her family’s deaths. The remainder of the album consisted of Etain and Robert at various ages. It made her skin crawl.
Coming to the last page, the red eyes of a flame-haired young man stared at her. It was as though he could see into her and knew her thoughts. She slammed the book closed, tightened the sash of her robe, and left the room.
“Thank you for standing witness, Linq. You are a good friend. For that, I am most grateful.”
“Something tells me it’s just the beginning.”
Dar placed a hand on his shoulder. “If I had family, I would not ask this of you. Should I fall in the fight with Midir, I wish you to usher my soul to its eternal resting place. It would be a great honor if you would sing of my deeds and my death.”
“I am honored by your request, High Lord, but you’re a better warrior than Midir. You’ll be back.”
Dar chuckled, touched by his friend’s vote of confidence. “I’ll do my best not to let you down.”
Returning to the house, they made their way to Spirit. “Milady, have you found anything?”
“Nothing.” She sounded as dejected as she looked. “I don’t believe we will. I told you. I saw her stabbed in the heart with me own two eyes.”
“And I told you she is alive.”
“I’ve searched in every corner with not so much as a glimmer. There’s nothing left of her in this realm.”
“Spirit, do not concentrate on the Alamir realm. She’s not here.” His patience showed signs of wear. “Midir has taken her to another. That is why I gave you the map. You must search above and below. Do not stop until you find her.”
“Dar.” Inferno’s voice served as a warning. “Ya best watch how ya talk to me wife, or that crystal skin-pricker won’t be the only sword with blood on it.”
“Someone around here has to be strong. I know she lives. If you won't say what must be said then I w
ill.” He pushed past Inferno toward Spirit and crouched down to look her in the eye. “Spirit, you know I speak the truth, don’t you? See with your heart, not your eyes.”
“Dar, you don’t understand-” Inferno started.
“I understand better than you can imagine.” His attention returned to Spirit. “Here. This may help.” Dar took hold of the sword and ran his hand along its sharp edge, smearing his blood on the blade. “Much to my disgust, I share the same blood as my brother. Etain is linked to both of us through it. Follow the trail it provides and you will find my heart.” He sat across from the bewildered mage, watching intently as she began once more.
Not fully recovered from her ordeal, Spirit’s chants grew weaker by the hour and Inferno’s patience wore ever thinner. Just as he was ready to put a stop to the farce, the blade began to give off a bright white glow. Eyes wide, Spirit looked at Dar. At the same time, a voice, full of anguish, shattered his thoughts, rocking him to the depths of his soul.
Dar and Spirit spoke as one. “I know where she is.”
17
Sucker Punch
It could be said that Freeblood was angry and wanted answers. It could also be said the Bok'Na'Ra were not nice people, but that would be subtle by comparison, and much less relevant. Anxious to be on his way, Freeblood stepped out of a pub somewhere in the southern Australian sector. The changes in his life since meeting the blonde girl had been nothing short of mind-blowing. Gifted with an unnatural speed now, he had developed new strength in body and mind. His vocabulary was constantly expanding with words and ideas he always thought as make-believe…Alamir, Bok’Na’Ra, swords, magic. Then there was the blood thing. And the blue gem.
It had appeared one night while at a wild ass concert in Japan, embedded in the palm of his hand, pulsing to the beat of the music. That was the night he met the strangest dude yet. At first, he thought it a gimmick, a costume for the concert, but soon learned the man was more real than he imagined. Aside from his diabolical ideas and freakishly red skin, he taught Freeblood how to manipulate the blue gem. Unfortunately, that was all he did. Freeblood was again left with a head full of unanswered questions.