Death of Gods (Vampire Crown Book 3)
Page 5
“It’s going to be better if we send two separate teams in to see what we can do.” Drez picked up where Staviz left off. “We need one that will go to North Landing and one that will cross just north of the city to see if they can either distract the vampire or find another cache.
“Because of my familiarity with North Landing,” Rilen said from my side, “I will be leading that group.”
I turned and looked at him. “What?”
“It makes sense,” Roran agreed. “I’ll be going with the middle passage group.”
“I don’t like this idea at all,” Dorian grumbled.
Argo leaned forward. “For once, we’re in complete agreement, Master Dorian. I don’t like this. There must be a more direct way to deal with this. Can’t we just walk down the Chasm and speak with them?”
I shook my head. “Master Argo, with all due respect, they shot me. Without a word, without warning. They pulled out their guns and shot me. They are not going to listen to us.”
“We have to show them the same force,” Staviz said.
“We can’t do that without weapons,” Roran agreed.
“You’re all fools.” Argo stood. “We haven’t even tried, not really. We owe ourselves and them that much before we start a war.”
Argo turned on his heel and marched out of the tent.
“Is he—” Vitas looked around.
“Yes.” Ophelia nodded and sat back.
“He’s going out to try to talk to them?” Drez was shocked. “Hadn’t we better stop him?”
Flash. Red.
I gasped and snapped my head to Dorian’s gaze.
He shrugged. “You can try to stop him. He’s an old fool.”
Vitas, Rilen, Roran, Carolee, and I stood and headed after Argo. I passed close to Dorian and hissed in his ear. “He’s not the only old fool I see here.”
Before I could cross out to the field, he grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I stared up at his shocking blue eyes. “It means we’re about to fight a war, and you’re letting him commit suicide, depriving us of a master magic wielder.”
“He’s a fool, Kimber.”
“We should suffer fools who make good warriors, don’t you think?”
Dorian sighed. “He’s not a warrior either, but fair enough. Let’s see if he can manage to live through this.”
Releasing me, I ran for the shield where the twins, Vitas and Carolee were, watching Argo approach the invisible barrier of wind and air Maurielle was weaving.
“He’s crazy,” Vitas mumbled.
My leg twinged, knowing what was on the other side of the Chasm. I rubbed the still-healing scar and backed to the side a bit. I had no desire to be hit again.
“Fool,” Mistress Neves whispered.
Carolee agreed. “What does he want to accomplish with this?”
“To prove that none of us are very good at being druids or negotiators or leaders for the people of S'Kir,” Dorian answered, folding his arms and leaning against a nearby rock. “Fool wants the crown.”
I gave Dorian a quick, sidelong glance.
The crown?
There was no time to ask before Argo was next to Maurielle, pushing through the barrier of wind and air.
“What are you doing?” she snapped at him.
“Negotiating.”
“They’ll kill you!”
“We have not even tried,” Argo stated, still pushing.
“They shot the Breaker! They’ll shoot you.”
No one heard his answer because he popped through the barrier to the other side. I was sure whatever he said was horrible and aimed at me.
We all watched as he walked slowly forward, one step at a time, his arms out wide and in a position of submission.
At the other end of the Chasm, a man stepped out. He wore a crown made of black metal with red and white stones that glinted in the midday sun. His blond hair was dirty with light brown, and his green eyes were snapping with energy and…something else. Something I couldn’t identify. It was clear, though, even across the distance of nearly a hundred strides.
Sucking in a shocked breath, I realized I could feel him. More than that, I could feel him through the magic.
The magic didn’t like him.
It didn’t feel right around him.
There was some warping and twisting that was nothing like the Triium magic. It was bent, broken.
Dorian gasped. He stood from the rock and dropped his disinterested posture, staring across the Chasm. A look of absolute loathing crossed his face, twisting his normally handsome visage, and the magic bent around his anger.
Rilen and Roran also stared at him, as a moment later the rest of the masters at the shield were staring and backing up.
Tightening his fists, Dorian moved toward the shield. Quietly, he mumbled a name.
“Savion.”
Then, he screamed at the temple master moving toward the man on the other side. His voice was loud enough to nearly shake the rocks.
“Get back here, Argo! Get back!”
His magic started to whip around manically, pushing the edge of Mistress Maurielle’s shield forward. He was trying to catch up to Argo who hadn’t heard Dorian’s yell.
Rilen and Roran joined him, pushing the bubble toward Argo.
I ran forward as Vitas, Neves, and Lunella did the same. We pushed forward, moving the shield as fast as we dare, without causing enough of the magic to whirl the rocks off the cliff faces.
Moving such a massive shield was a dozen times more difficult than just maintaining.
Argo was just oblivious.
“Argo!” Dorian screamed through the shield.
I tried to funnel a little of the wind in a way that would allow Dorian’s voice to carry through, but I didn’t think Argo would heed him even if it did get through.
“Argo, get back here!” I heard the desperation in Dorian’s voice. “He’s going to kill you! He’ll murder you!”
Then, for the first time, we all saw what real practiced vampire speed looked like.
Or, rather didn’t look like.
No one saw the man with the crown move until he was just fifteen steps in front of us. Just ahead of the shield.
The crown on his head was beautiful, and while it should have matched his looks, it didn’t.
He was dark. Cruel.
The magic was bending, kinking, twisting away from him. Some were pulled in, and other parts escaped.
Holding Argo by the back of his neck, he sneered at us standing there. There was an awful, evil smile on his face.
Evil wasn’t the right word.
Mad.
Insane.
Those were better.
Nodding at Dorian with a terrible grin, revealing sharp, deadly fangs, he struck.
His teeth dug into Argo’s neck, and the anguish on the master’s face was clear. The blood drained down his skin, onto his shirt as the madman drank from his vein.
“Oh, Gods.” Carolee gasped.
Neves spun away so she could keep the shield—and her lunch.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
So. Much. Blood.
After just a minute, the madman threw Argo to the ground, tearing his throat wide open.
Argo wasn’t dead.
Blood still pulsed from the gashes on his neck, and he clawed desperately at his throat trying to hold a hand there to staunch the bleeding. He was choking as he tried to breathe. A tremor shook his legs.
All of us were frozen in shock at what we were staring at, and no one seemed to be able to move or think. I just watched the red seeping into the ground around Argo. Just out of reach.
Rilen whispered, “Oh, gods, kill him. Don’t let him suffer.”
Time started to unfreeze.
Dorian’s magic drove through the shield and drove straight for Argo. Vitas and I watched as he seized Argo’s heart with the magic and held it still. He cut the air from his lungs and held it
all there for just a moment.
The tremors in his legs stopped, and when Dorian released his heart, it did not beat again.
Lunella vomited.
I followed close behind.
We watched the madman start to stroll back to the line of vampires standing at the other end, all of them shaking with laughter.
Their king had just slaughtered a temple master, and they were chuckling.
There was a tickle in the magic of the Chasm, pulling on me again. I dropped all of my barriers and let the world fill and drip in colors.
A rope of magic was winding its way quickly and not too subtly toward the madman in the crown. I followed it back and found—
Dorian was shoving it forward. His face was red and angry, and his palms were bleeding where he clenched them, digging his nails into his hands.
There was no kindness in him. Just pure, unadulterated rage.
Ancient rage, ancient hate.
He was going to kill the vampire king.
I grabbed his arm. “Stop, stop.”
“No.”
Drawing in a sharp breath, the magic of the Chasm—my magic, my creation, the Breaker’s Cavern exposed—pulled me down to the ground.
…stop him…
How could I? The power he was wielding…
Rilen and Roran were there, suddenly, with hands on my shoulders.
“Stop him, ilati.” Both of them uttered the words.
I dove into the magic, pulling power in, and created a bubble, a void, pushing the magic out either end of the passageway lined with the white crystals.
One moment they were still pulsing with color, and the next, they were gray. Drained of power. Standing in a void. The magic guided me, making the void as long as the Chasm, and twice as tall.
With a great heave, I slammed the void into place, locking it there. No magic would pass.
Not druid, not vampire.
Rilen and Roran were panting as hard as I was, staring at what we had done, and at the vampires at the other end of the Chasm.
Gods and Savior, what the hell had become of the vampires?
What the hell had become of Dorian?
* * *
“Let go!”
I screamed at Dorian, tearing at his fingers. He was leaving bloody marks all over my shirt, after he had grabbed it and ripped it.
Worse, he was scaring me.
“Let go of me, Dorian! Please!”
“Dorian!” Roran snapped.
He shoved me through the flap of the recovery tent and yanked the twins in as well. Striding though, he stopped barely in front of me.
“Where the fuck do you get off stopping me?”
Roran grabbed his arm and yanked. “Back off, Dorian! You’re scaring all of us.”
“Don’t touch me!” He whirled, and a flash of white and gold surrounded him. “I should have killed Savion!” He spun back. “You should have let me kill him!”
I stepped back, truly afraid of him for the first time in my life. “The magic didn’t want you to. It told me to stop you.”
“You little—”
“Dorian!” Rilen grabbed his other arm.
My legs were trembling, but I wasn’t going to let this man intimidate me.
I set my feet and strode at him. “You want to call me that? Go ahead. I dare you. That is my Scar, my Chasm! I am the Breaker, and I listen to the magic when it tells me to do something! Go ahead—call me a bitch. Call me whatever you want, you crusty asshole. But we are loyal to the magic first. Aren’t we? Isn’t that the ultimate truth of a temple master? Always the magic!”
“He needs to die. He should have died before the Spine rose! He dared to kill a master!”
“And you would not have been one iota better than him if you had murdered him! In full view of the whole S’Kir!”
“He destroyed—”
“I don’t care,” I growled at him. “I don't. I had to wait for the Spine to tell me it was time. And I heard the magic again, and it told me to stop you. That’s what I did. We already have a war we need to fight. We didn’t need it to start right now.”
His face was red, and he was breathing hard.
I grabbed two fists full of the long, satin gold locks that surround his face like a halo, and held his blue, blue eyes with mine. “Call me a bitch all you want, but know that I will always obey the magic first.”
I yanked him down to me and slammed my mouth over his. He opened for me as if he was thinking the same thing. I slid my tongue along him, tasting him, devouring him.
I knew, just knew, that if he had killed the madman, we would not have survived the vampires’ wrath. Dorian would have been the first of us to die.
Instead, he was here.
Alive. Angry.
Erect.
I could deal with two out of three.
Finding the ties of his pants, I loosened them, running my hands around his waist and pushed them down his hips.
“Kimber…” Dorian breathed my name against my lips. “I want to hate you right now.”
“That's fine with me,” I hissed. “But hate me while you fuck me.”
I tore away for just a moment and glanced at Roran and Rilen. “Someone help me get out of this monstrosity?”
Rilen was next to me in a heartbeat as Roran was helping Dorian out of his pants. He reached for the erect cock that jutted from Dorian and wrapped his hand around it.
Rilen made quick work of the buttons and bows my dress had. He whispered in my ear, “No matter how many times I see it, I still want to wrap my lips around Dorian’s cock.”
Liquid heat pooled between my legs. “I like watching that.”
Slipping the dress down my body, Rilen then went to work on the little corset I was wearing as Dorian’s hands found my breasts. It took just another second for him to toss the last piece of my clothing to the floor. Roran did the same for Dorian.
I kissed Dorian hard. “Get inside me, now.”
“Bed,” he mumbled between my lips.
Rilen grabbed me around the waist as he yanked his own clothes off. He dove onto the bed and sat me between his legs, his shaft pressed between the globes of my ass. One arm banded around my middle, and the other hand slipped down between my legs.
“Brother, help our mate find his way inside our ilati, won’t you?”
I watched with heavy lids as Dorian walked to me. He was so perfectly sculpted, with broad shoulders and perfect pecs. His long hair hung like a curtain of night, and I adored fisting it as he rode me.
This time was not kind—he was still angry. He climbed between my legs and spiked himself deep into my pussy. There was no mercy there, no tenderness.
It was what we both needed.
Rilen’s hands expertly handled my breasts, twisting or teasing, pinching and pulling. Dorian pressed his lips to mine and kissed me hard, his tongue thrusting just as hard as his cock.
I broke away for just a second and caught Roran’s eye. “Take his ass, Roran. Bury yourself in him.”
Stepping close, I could see Roran’s hand press between Dorian’s cheeks. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” Dorian snapped as if it were obvious.
Pressing him forward, deeper into me, Roran wasn’t tender with him, either. Rilen pressed a jar in my hand as my body twitched from the deliciously rough handling. I glanced over and saw that it was for Roran and Dorian.
But I didn’t let them have it. As much concentration as it took me with his massive erection inside me, I removed the stopper from the jar, and drizzled the liquid on to the middle of his back, letting it roll down his spine.
“Shit.” Dorian clenched his teeth at the cool, wet sensation that slid down. When it hit the very top of his cleft, he jerked again.
Rilen laughed. “That wonderful little sensitive spot.”
Roran hissed when the liquid hit his cock. “Oh, damn.”
Looking over his shoulder, Dorian stared at Roran. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”
With his teeth clenched, he stared at me and answered Roran. “Yes. Harder. Do it harder.”
There was no hesitation in Roran’s strokes in and out of Dorian’s body. I felt like I was merely along for the ride.
Rilen grabbed the bottle from my hand and poured just a little down my back this time. I gasped from the change in temperature and heard him moan in satisfaction as it slicked the cock he had slipped between my cheeks.
I leaned back against him. “Do you want my other entrance?”
“No, ilati, not this time. Let them use us.”
I didn’t quite understand what he meant, but I kissed him hard and didn’t question it.
I was caught in a perfect storm of sex, anger, and desire.
Until Rilen’s finger found my clit. He started his exquisite torture as Roran showed Dorian no mercy.
Then, I understood Rilen’s desire—as they sawed in and out together, creating a brutal rhythm, I slid smoothly over his cock, creating a different kind of pleasure for him.
For me, too.
My body sang as they all expertly played me and each other. I cried out with a climax, but no one was done. Not even me.
Take the magic.
Roran would speed and slow, and with his brother in control of my bundled nerves, it was easy for Rilen to follow his desires. Dorian nipped at my skin, my collar, my neck. He kissed me, then sucked my tongue into his mouth, then found a breast to suckle.
Take the magic, send it to them.
His mouth seemed to be everywhere, shameless, kissing me, kissing Rilen.
Roran grabbed his hair and fisted it, pulling his head back, and exposing Dorian’s throat.
Take the magic. Send it to them. You are of the blood.
I dragged my tongue over the smooth skin of Dorian’s throat, tasting the salt, the sweat, the male that he exuded. I nibbled on the column, to the side and back.
Take the magic. Send it to them. You will need more than what you have to survive to find your blood.
“Did you know,” Roran panted, “that Dorian has a little spot at the top of his ass that when you press it, he goes off like a cannon?”
“Press it,” I panted. “I want to see him come. I want him to come inside me.”
“Roran,” Dorian threatened.