UnholyCravings

by Suzanne Rock

  Too powerful. Mine.

  Soren shook his head, pushed aside the last of the controlling magic and stood. He looked questioningly at Donar.

  Behind you, you idiot.

  Soren turned, and saw Nergal drag Tara to the end of the boat. What is he doing?

  I’m not sure. You better stop him.

  Soren glanced at Donar. Are you going to help?

  Donar worked his jaw. That was when Soren noticed the beads of sweat on his twin’s brow, and the tight lines around his eyes. Nergal still has control on my deahman. I’m fighting it, but it will still take me some time.

  Why can I move, then?

  I think Nergal broke concentration to conserve energy. He might have thought that you were in too much pain to be a threat. He doesn’t know that we can mind-read.

  Soren turned back toward Nergal and Tara and saw Nergal pick a large knife out of a nearby toolbox.

  Hurry, Donar said.

  Soren crept along the side of the boat, careful to remain hidden from view. He watched Tara struggle, and anger bubbled up inside his chest. Soren was tired of being that deahman’s plaything. It was time that he taught Nergal a lesson.

  He remembered what had happened back on the marina and paused. He wouldn’t be able to fight Nergal with physical strength. Soren needed the element of surprise, but Nergal’s back was to the edge of the boat. There was no way to sneak up on him.

  Even if Soren could sneak up on them, the element of surprise would only give him a minute or two, not enough time to take out a deahman with no weapon. Soren also needed a way to gain the upper hand.

  He scanned the deck, but found nothing that he could use.

  Your pocket.

  Soren glanced back at Donar and raised his brows.

  Use the shard in your pocket.

  The shard, of course. He had forgotten about it. Soren reached in and pulled out the shard. The dull red glow illuminated his palm. I don’t know how to use it.

  I don’t know either, but you have to try.

  Soren thought back to what Urian did before. He curled his fingers around the shard and stretched out his hand. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on calling forth the magic.

  Mine, his deahman said.

  Help me, Soren pleaded.

  Hurry.

  Fucking deahman. What good was he? Soren pushed his inner darkness aside and tried once more. He could feel the dark magic trapped inside the crystal, but every time he tried to throw it at Nergal, he hit a wall. He lowered his arm in defeat.

  Maybe you need to get closer, Donar suggested.

  How do I do that?

  Above.

  Soren looked up and saw the cabin of the boat. If he could climb on top and work his way over the side, he could get close enough to Nergal and Tara without them seeing him. But that would mean he’d have to climb, and then dangle his body over the edge of the cabin. Fuck. Soren hated heights.

  Hurry, his deahman wailed.

  Soren shifted his gaze back to Nergal and Tara. Nergal had worked Tara to the ground and was trying to flip her over onto her stomach. He swung the knife, creating a gash in her wings. Tara screamed and a flash of pain whipped through his body, immobilizing him. Soren’s inner deahman cried out in frustration.

  Tara’s struggling is creating a diversion. Nergal’s grip on me is weakening, but I need a few more minutes.

  Okay, give me a warning before you attack. I’m going in. Soren had to help Tara. He couldn’t let that monster hurt her again.

  Soren looped around the cabin to the opposite side from Nergal and Tara. He spotted a ladder and climbed it to the top of the cabin. Once on top, he plastered himself to the roof and crawled over to the opposite edge. With each inch, fear gripped him a little harder. Images flashed through his mind of that day back when he was a member of Venom. He remembered how his feet dangled over the balcony, and how his stomach lurched during free-fall. It was so terrifying, so horrific. His entire life had flashed through his mind in those few seconds, and he was ashamed of what he saw.

  About halfway across he stopped and pressed his forehead into the roof. He couldn’t do this. He was too high up and it was too hard.

  Tara screamed, and once more pain lashed through his body, this round more intense than the last. Sweat beaded on his brow and his hands shook. If he was in this much agony, then how intense was the pain for Tara?

  He had to go to her. Back when he fell, Soren was ashamed of his life. Not anymore. Because of Tara, he had hope for the future, something to live for.

  Somehow Soren found the will to move. He lifted his head from the roof and wiped the sweat from his temples. Then he called out to his inner darkness. Help me.

  Mine.

  I need to get to the other side of this roof.

  Mine.

  Our woman is in trouble, she needs us.

  Hurry.

  Soren growled with frustration. I’m trying. Help me get to the side of the roof so we can save her.

  The evil inside of him sprang to life and darkness filled his mind.

  Help.

  The deahman took control of his limbs and Soren started to crawl across the roof once more. Within moments he made it to the edge and peered over the side.

  Shit, he was high up. Soren swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to focus on the task at hand.

  Nergal had made several cuts to Tara’s body, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. The deahman had managed to sit on top of her and hold her arms immobile on the ground. The position caused him to lose his knife, which lay on the deck beside him.

  You provide the distraction. Once the spell is broken, I’ll grab the knife and finish him, Donar said.

  Soren glanced over at his twin, who nodded. Soren took out the shard once more. He stared at the pulsing red stone in his hand, unsure of what to do.

  Mine.

  Help me. I don’t know how to use this thing.

  Mine.

  I need to use this stone to hurt the deahman who wants to kill Tara.

  Too strong.

  We just need to provide a distraction.

  Souls are in there.

  Deahman souls?

  Yes. Source of magic.

  Well, harness them. Let them go. Do what you need to do to help Tara.

  We will be punished.

  It was in that moment that Soren realized that he had a level of clarity that he had never achieved in Nergal’s presence before. Tara’s bond did that to him. She had said that with time, the bond between them would become stronger and the stone would no longer affect him. It wouldn’t affect Donar either. She had given them quite a gift and deserved everything that they could give her, and more.

  No, we won’t be punished, he told his deahman. Tara will protect us.

  Freedom.

  Yes, she gave us our freedom. Now we need to give her freedom as well.

  The darkness swirled inside of his head and Soren could feel his deahman considering.

  I will help, it said. For her.

  Soren closed his hand over the shard. Good. Tell me what to do.

  The darkness surged in his mind. Control.

  Soren relaxed and let his inner deahman take control of his body. He felt the evil pump through his veins. Instead of fighting it, this time he embraced it. Soren felt stronger, more alive. He tightened his grip on the stone and outstretched his arm. His deahman growled inside of his head as he saw Nergal grab the knife.

  Now, Soren said.

  He focused on Nergal as the ancient spell fell from his lips. Power seeped from the stone and pumped through his body. It was addictive. Soren felt the souls trapped within the shard, felt their agony and pain, felt their power. He called it all forth and forced it to do his bidding.

  The spell was quick, but effective. Red energy burst from the shard and slammed into Nergal’s back as he bent over Tara. The deahman cried out as he was thrown against the side of the ship.

  Donar was already moving. He t
hrew his body on top of Nergal. They struggled and the knife was thrown across the deck.

  Soren felt the power drain from his body and go back into the stone. No.

  Tired.

  No, we have to help Donar.

  Too tired.

  The energy had worn out his deahman. It had worn out him as well, or was that Tara’s exhaustion? His emotions were so entwined with hers that it was difficult to separate them.

  Soren tried to call forth the power once more, but without his inner darkness, the shard was nothing but a glowing stone. He tightened his jaw in frustration and pocketed the shard. It looked like he was going to have to help Donar himself.

  He crawled up onto his feet and looked down. Fuck. It was a long drop. How was he supposed to get there?

  Soren tried to call forth his deahman, but the coward remained silent.

  He glanced at Tara, who lay motionless on the deck. Blood stains spattered around her and pain lanced Soren’s chest. He had to get down there.

  He watched Donar and Soren struggle. They rolled on the deck below, first one gaining the upper hand, then the other. Nergal rolled on top of him, then punched him in the face. Donar twisted his body and was able to get out from underneath the deahman. He sprang up on his feet.

  Suddenly Soren knew what he had to do. Duck.

  What? Donar asked.

  Get out of the way, man. Long ago, Donar had saved his life on a Venom mission. Now it was his time to save his twin’s.

  Nergal charged for Donar, who dropped and rolled to one side. Soren’s whole body shook with fear. Help me.

  His deahman was too worn out to respond. He was going to have to do this himself. Soren aimed himself at Nergal and closed his eyes. Memories flooded his mind, memories of him dangling in the air, of him falling. He forced them aside and leaned over the edge.

  He tightened his jaw as he fell, his effort not to scream eating him up inside. He opened his arms and, for one horrifying moment, was in freefall. Panic tightened his chest and his mind froze with fear. Then he crashed into Nergal on the deck. The deahman lost his balance and staggered to the side of the ship.

  Soren opened his eyes and grabbed onto Nergal’s neck. They both fell forward and toppled over the side of the boat.

  The water was cold. Shock slammed into Soren’s body as he sank below the surface. He felt Nergal slip from his grip. Soren opened his eyes and searched for him, but everything was a blur.

  There he was. The bastard was trying to swim away.

  Soren reached out for Nergal, who twisted from his grasp. The deahman sank a fist into Soren’s gut. Soren’s breath left him in a whoosh. Nergal sent another blow to the jaw. Soren saw stars. He tried to move, but his limbs felt as if they were lead. He watched Nergal as he swam away.

  Suddenly Soren felt large hands under his arms.

  Stay with me buddy. Donar dragged him up and out of the water. They burst up onto the surface and Soren gulped large breaths of air.

  Take it easy. You’re safe now.

  Soren relaxed and allowed Donar to drag him back to the ship.

  Thanks.

  Don’t mention it.

  Donar helped him back onto the boat and handed him a towel. Soren worked to dry himself off as Donar moved over to Tara on the other side of the boat.

  “Is she okay?” Soren asked.

  “I don’t know. She’s alive, so I suppose that’s something.”

  “We need to get her to a doctor.”

  “I know.”

  Soren moved over to where Donar knelt and watched him move his hands over Tara. She looked a mess, but she was alive. All they needed to do was heal her, but how?

  Soren glanced up from Tara’s body and looked at the other ship. The flames had finished eating through the hull, and now it was reduced to nothing but random driftwood and supplies. He wasn’t going to find any help there.

  The layout of their current ship was similar to the other, which meant that there was a small living quarters below. Maybe he’d be able to find something there that could help him.

  “Let me see if I can find a medical kit or something,” he told Donar.

  “I’m going with you.” Donar wrapped his arms around Tara and stood. Worry etched his features. “She has a pulse, but it’s weak. I think we might be losing her.”

  Soren’s jaw tightened as fear gripped his chest. He reached out and ran his fingers over her cheek. She felt cold, too cold to be alive. “Her body temperature is dropping.”

  “I know. I’ll try to warm her up while you look around.”

  Soren nodded and turned toward the cabin. “Come on, then, we don’t have any time to waste.”

  * * * * *

  Samir groaned as pain stabbed through his skull. What the hell happened?

  He rubbed his temples and tried to sit up. The world dipped and swayed as he fought for a sitting position. His whole body felt as if it had been run over by a large truck. Images flashed through his mind. Fighting. Fire. Anisa.

  He groaned as his memory started to return. He had tried to stop Anisa from hurting Tara and those two men. In return, Anisa set fire to the hotel room and her companion beat the crap out of him. Samir had tried to get away, but then something smacked him on the back of the head and he blacked out.

  Samir slowly tried to take in his surroundings. Bars. He was surrounded by bars. It was also as hot as hell. Where the fuck was he? If he ever got his hands on that little weasel Anisa liked to hang out with, he’d tear him to shreds. Samir had no idea what kind of hold he had over his former lover, but he swore one day that he’d break it.

  Screams. Someone was screaming. He squinted as his eyes became adjusted to the dim light. He was in a warehouse of some sort. It was dark and dingy. It smelled like something was burning. He tried to stand, but then the ground started to sway. He clung to the bars and looked out around him.

  It appeared as if he was suspended off the ground. There were multiple cages throughout the warehouse, each holding some type of creature suspended over a large fire pit. Some of the creatures were screaming.

  What was going on?

  Far below, a door opened and a large, dark-haired man came into view. He locked the door behind him and then moved over to a lever built into the wall. Samir tightened his grip on the bars as the cage started to move. It rotated with the other cages around the fire pit until it stopped high above the man’s head. He looked vaguely familiar and Samir swore that he had seen him before.

  The man adjusted the lever and Samir’s cage swung out away from the pit and lowered to the ground.

  Once it hit the level surface, the man slowly walked over to Samir.

  “Who are you?” Samir asked when the man stopped in front of the cage.

  “My name is Urian, but you may call me master.”

  Samir tightened his jaw. “No one is my master.”

  The man stroked his dark goatee as he studied Samir. “We shall see, my friend.” His eyes changed from black to crimson and he pulled something out of his pocket. A shard. It glowed bright red.

  Urian stared at the shard for a moment, then held it out to Samir. He locked his gaze with Samir’s. “Touch it.”

  Samir felt a strange compulsion to obey. Instead he spat at the stone and met Urian’s gaze. “Go to hell.”

  Urian laughed. It was a loud, full laugh, one that echoed off the warehouse ceiling. From somewhere off in the distance, Samir heard a high pitched bird-like scream.

  “We are already there, my friend. Urian’s smile faded and he stuck the stone through the bars. “Now touch it.”

  His voice sounded more animal than man and suddenly Samir was afraid, very afraid. “No.”

  “Touch it.”

  “Fuck off.” Nothing good ever came of magic, and Samir knew this was no exception. He didn’t want any part of what this Urian was offering.

  Urian pulled back the stone and muttered something Samir didn’t understand. The cage door swung open and Urian stepped through. />
  “You are going to learn to obey me, slave.”

  Slave? “Get away from me.”

  Urian crossed the cage and locked his gaze with Samir. “You’re going to pay dearly for your insubordination.” He grabbed Samir’s hand.

  Samir tried to throw a punch, but his free arm felt as if it was full of rocks. He wiggled and twisted, but Urian was too strong. Odd that someone so much smaller than him should have so much strength.

  Samir tried to pry Urian’s fingers off his wrist, but they wouldn’t budge. What the…

  Samir was bigger and more muscular than Urian. Why couldn’t he move the man’s fingers?

  Urian brought up the strange red shard and placed it in Samir’s hand. “Feel the power of the deahman stone.”

  Pain lanced Samir’s hand and quickly ran up though his body. Samir screamed as something dark and evil tore apart his mind as if it was paper and poured into his soul.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Donar tried to push aside his rising panic, but it was hard. Tara was dying. He could feel it through their bond. They couldn’t let that happen, no matter what the cost.

  He followed Soren down into the cabin and was relieved to find the layout very similar to the ship that they were just on. Donar rushed Tara over to the bed as Soren dragged back the covers. Donar laid her down on the soft mattress and covered her with a blanket.

  “Go.” Donar shooed Soren off to look for supplies as he began to undress her. Tara was cold and getting colder by the minute. He had to warm her up quick, and the only thing he could think of was to offer her his own body heat.

  He stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed next to her, knocking over one of those decorative bottles of scented oil in the process. The aroma of vanilla filled the air, but Donar was too distracted to care. He wiped his oily fingers on his legs and scooted up next to Tara.

  She felt as colds as ice next to his skin. Donar buried his face in her soft, black hair and ran his hands over her body in an effort to warm her up.

  “I can’t find anything.” Soren’s panicked voice rose up from the other side of the room.

  “Stop looking and come over here then. We need to warm her up.”

  “It was fucking stupid of her to stay and fight.” Soren stripped and got into bed on the other side of her.