Shadows of the Keeper

by Karey Brown

  Emily peered down towards where he was looking, but with so many people milling, no one person was discernible. Except the guards. Escapees from a Hollywood horror flick lurked, though their weaponry looked far more threatening than plastic props. “Why is your mother making you angry?”

  “She sends one testing my authority into my midst to garner information about you.”

  Emily looked at a handful of males—

  “No. The female. There. Blue flowing gown, though if in my presence, she would not have that on—“

  “Excuse me?” Amber eyes ignited. “I’ll rip your face off, skin your hide, bronze and mount your test—“

  Laughing, Dezenial yanked her into his embrace. “Hellcat. There are those having so disrespected my position, daring to think I am beneath them because I am male, that I, in turn, make them suffer what I’ve seen in their minds to be their ultimate humiliation. She is forbidden to be clothed in my presence because she is cruel, bitter and it brings her the same amount of shame she has cast on others.” He cupped her chin, lifting her gaze. “Trust me, none will ever know my touch, my mouth, nor the taste of my flesh—“

  “No sinking fangs either. They’re mine. One bite of some bitch, no matter the body part, and I file ‘em down.”

  Inzyr snorted.

  Dezenial’s fangs began to elongate. “A Lumynari male becomes very enticed when his mate shows possessiveness.”

  “Thirsty?”

  “Very.”

  She arched her neck, and much obliged, he lowered his mouth, his large hand on the small of her back pressing her against him. Hot air blew across her skin as he waited for her heartbeat to increase, her artery throbbing its desire, calling to him.

  She raked his chest, making him holler out. Ribbons of blood sprouted. “I don’t like waiting.” Her lip actually curled.

  The smell of his own blood now upon her, he incensed. Fisting her hair, forever the need to dominate, he sank his fangs into her hot flesh, blood filling his mouth. Her moan increased his need to drink deeply. Not wishing to weaken her, he eased his teeth from her, lapping droplet of blood until the pinpricks closed.

  “You will need to have her drink from you. You have put it off long enough. She will dangerously weaken if you do not.” Inzyr continued his observation out the massive window, but Emily caught the reflection of his eyes staring at her.

  His expression was that of a Lumynari who would brook no argument.

  “I am so not biting into him.”

  “You would be wrong, vaifyr. Now, Lord Dezenial. Too many times, you have tasted of her. I do not wish to lose her, having just regained her in my life where I no longer have to observe merely from shadows.”

  Before Emily could question or argue, she was swept up into powerful arms and carried to her father’s comfortable oversized down couch. As if a princess, and Dezenial her knight, she found herself delicately laid upon the suede couch.

  Immediately, she sat up.

  “You said you weren’t a vampire.” She jabbed his chest with her index finger as he leaned over her. “You said you were just, ‘tasting your soul, Keer’dra’.”

  Inzyr laughed.

  Dezenial scowled. “I told you, I don’t sound like that.”

  “And you swore I would not have carnal desires . . . you two better stop laughing! This is not funny!”

  “Ah, but it is.” Her husband dropped down, one leg tucked under him, the other positioned that his arm draped across his knee oh-so-casual.

  It pissed her off.

  “I’m going to kiss you.”

  “Since when do you announce your intentions?”

  “Since, when I’m finished, you will have the insatiable need to bite me.”

  “I think you’re just trying to be kinky.” She glanced her father. “My dad will kick your ass.”

  “Your dad,” Inzyr stated, “will hold you down, slice Dezenial’s vein, and force feed you if you do not comply with what your mate is about to do.”

  “You sure you’re not my step dad?”

  He turned and glanced at her. “Every vile thought in your head comes from my DNA.”

  “How the hell do you know about—“ Emily held up her hand. “Never mind, forgot my dad’s a professor.”

  It was Dezenial’s turn to laugh.

  “Shouldn’t we at least go in the room?”

  “No, Keer’dra, privacy is required, but the hour grows dire that you must feed. Your sire is ally, and fully aware of what is about to happen. He is the only, besides my mother, in this domain, who knows of my true identity.”

  She tapped his nose. “You’re out of luck.”

  “Oh?” He rubbed his nose, never having had someone take such liberties before.

  “My canines aren’t razor sharp, so my biting into you would be equivalent to gnawing. Think it’ll be a tad painful for you.”

  “Once again, you skim surfaces. My blood now flows through you, Keer’dra.”

  “Uh huh.” Her tongue exaggeratedly ran across the underside of her top teeth. “Nope, nope, no fangs here. Sorry, no biting today. Must be up on my rabies shot after all.”

  “Willing to make a wager?”

  “What, that I’m not rabid? Sure. And that I’m not thirsty—“

  He lunged. Savagely, he kissed her, bruising her lips. Pulling her tongue with his teeth, releasing just as abruptly to nibble her lips, he pinned her arms to her sides, forcing her into submission. He nipped her neck, but when she instinctively arched, he pulled away, his fangs descending. Several times, he licked back and forth across her artery, teasing her blood, boiling it until it throbbed for release. He attacked her mouth again, licking across her lips until her own tongue clashed with his.

  Intentionally, he nicked his bottom lip on his very sharp canine.

  Emily jerked, blood in her mouth from his small cut. “You’re hurt!”

  He pulled back and arched his brow. And waited. Eyes orbs of fire. She licked her bottom lip, not realizing more of his blood lay upon the soft flesh. Spicy. Honey. Tart. She licked again.

  Nothing.

  She licked harder. Gone. Her gaze snapped to his. What had . . . he . . . her attention dropped lower. His neck. Pulsating. Just below his ear. She could hear pounding. His heart? Ever-so-slight, she leaned closer. A wild scent filled her. Spice. His. Deeper, she inhaled, not realizing she licked her bottom lip, unconsciously searching for another taste of the nectar that had been there seconds earlier. Her eyes fiercely locked with his. “That’s,” she eyed the throbbing pulse in his neck again, “what I tasted?”

  “Yes.” His voice had become husky.

  She lunged from the couch, fisted his hair, yanked his head back and glared down at him.

  “I will taste it again!” Incisors pulled and lengthened as her head plunged downward towards the sweetest—she bit deeply. And drank great mouthfuls of spicy, sweet nectar. Her insides swirled, blazed, until she crazed with the throws of climaxing. Not realizing her nails elongated as well, she skewered them into the dark flesh of his back, a Lumynari holding captive her mate.

  His denial of sexual release during her first drink of him nearly crazed him. His hands clasped her thighs tighter, fighting to control the Daemon within roaring to mate. Emily would have imbibed until he was but dust, if he had not placed his fingers near her teeth and began to ease her from his neck. In time, she would learn to control the feed.

  When they had privacy, he would show her just how powerful she was over him with her bite, her nails, and her hot sex.

  “Dizzy.” She sagged against him, deeply slumbering, her body adjusting to the change.

  “At long last, the oath and bond are complete,” Inzyr said softly.

  Dezenial glanced his assassin. “You sound relieved. Yes. Your daughter wholly belongs to me now.”

  “There is no other I would ever trust her care to. She remains naïve about a great many things.”

  “You would have this differ?”

  “No. Re
freshing. Dangerous for her, but refreshing,” Inzyr conceded. “You have been gifted, Prince Dezenial, with the only thing that I hold in higher esteem than you or I.”

  The Dark Prince gave a deep nod, yielding deference to the only being he’d ever considered friend and ally. “Know that I am humbled, honored, and fully aware that you quake in your boots, panicked that I was going to leave this hellcat in your custody.”

  They shared a knowing laugh.

  Inzyr turned back to the window. “The priestess gazes up here longingly. Which means, she knows I watch.”

  “Do you desire . . . company?”

  “I do believe much time has passed since I’ve bothered.”

  Dezenial’s head tilted slightly, his eyes vacant for mere seconds. Inzyr’s eyes glittered mischievously. “She has vanished.”

  “She will do your bidding.”

  “Ah, A female Lumynari not clawing, fighting, and plotting to plunge her dagger in me as I mate her. I think I will actually enjoy this session.”

  “I take your daughter to the palace. She will be weak for some time, and then—“

  Both males grinned when tinkling bells announced the Lumynari priestess now waited outside Inzyr’s door. “Your mother will be furious when she discovers I have sampled one of her chosen.”

  “My mother is about to sacrifice the bitch for daring to assume she’s above adhering to the laws my mother deigns her temple guardians follow. You will not be her first lover.”

  “Not virginal?”

  “Do you desire another?”

  “No. I think this one will serve perfectly the present mood I’m in, since she’s experienced.”

  “I always wondered what men talk about when they think they’re alone. Uber gross.”

  “You’re awake?” Dezenial and Inzyr exchanged looks, the assassin shrugging as if to say, nothing about his daughter followed protocol.

  “You should be clawing at me for—“

  “Finish that sentence with my father standing right there, and I’ll bleed you.” She squirmed from Dezenial’s arms. The bell sounded again. Dezenial stood and glared at the door, a quiet snarl emitting. Emily felt his rage.

  “Are you going to hurt her?”

  “No, daughter. Some enjoy that tasteless type of . . . sport. I prefer someone who will not cower when I take her, but won’t prefer violence either. I am not the lover you have experienced with your husband. I do not desire cuddling, kissing, and conversation.”

  “Somehow, I just never envisioned having this conversation with my dad.”

  Inzyr grinned. “Come, you are in luck. A viewing.”

  “Of you having sex? Eeeewww! I’m drawing the line!”

  “Of why you are forbidden to go down to market, Emily.”

  “What about your lover?”

  “She has been commanded to wait until invited to enter.”

  “Rude.”

  “She is forbidden to be in your presence.”

  Emily gave her father a look. “Seriously?”

  “You are far above her and I will not have you exposed to the likes of that one,” Inzyr stated. “Besides, she’ll be dead tomorrow, so why bother with introductions or manners?”

  Emily flinched.

  “I’m an assassin, Lumynari, daughter. I’m not interested in candles, ambiance, or coffee with these fools.” He swept his hand to indicate the inhabitants down below. “Perhaps, when you experience Lumynari sex, then you will understand I only seek basic needs from the females of this realm, nothing more.”

  “Dez, can we—“

  “No, you most certainly will not convince me to teach you Lumynari sex.”

  “Ha!” Viewing out the window again, her father, she noticed, held himself in a way that reminded her of how he’d looked when she feared him. Almost, she fell to her knees and gave thanks that these two lethal Shadow Masters were her beloveds, and not her enemies. If events were different, and they’d arrived seeking her death, the two of them would have been vastly disappointed, for she’d have saved them the trouble by ending her life herself.

  Unobserved by her, Dezenial stared at her, reading every thought.

  “You won’t let me go down there, even escorted with dozens of guards?”

  “No.”

  “I thought I was under my husband’s rule now?”

  Inzyr arched a brow at her by way of his reflection in the window.

  Emily sighed. “Fine. I won’t beg, plead, or hold you at knife point.”

  “As if,” Inzyr muttered.

  My mother will try her hand at every turn to confiscate you from my care, Keer’dra.

  Emily nodded, while watching shoppers below.

  “Kendra never went into the city during open market,” Inzyr turned to her. “If it’s any consolation.”

  “I understand. But you two are sooo gonna owe me.”

  “Cheesecake.”

  Emily gasped and spun to face her new husband. “How do you—“

  “We have watched you forever, Keer’dra. Your sire remains mute, but he has acquired the ability to bake such treats that you swear off each time you step upon your odd body scale.”

  “You are evil personified.”

  Dezenial bowed. “I do my best.”

  “I was but curious to see why you moaned with each bite. An atrocity equivalent to eating mud.”

  Emily clutched her throat. “Blasphemy. Cheesecake rocks!”

  “There,” Inzyr pointed. Emily moved closer and followed where he indicated. A skirmish unfolded. She gasped. “Are those dwarves?” She stepped closer to the glass, hoping for a better look. Opera binoculars were presented to her. She smiled her thanks up at her husband. “I’ll be, dwarves. What . . . hey! What are they doing? Man, they’re good and pissed about something—oh my God!” Emily reared from the bloody scene, fearing it touchable even from way up here. “You have to do something. He just stabbed that Lumynari merchant!”

  Inzyr’s eyes grazed her. “Haggling.”

  “Pfff, so you stab the person when they don’t agree to what you’re offering to pay?” She shook her head. “I’m not watching this.”

  Inzyr shrugged.

  She fidgeted with her skirt. She’d really rather return to that couch and taste Dezenial again. Morbid curiosity won out. She raised the tiny gold binoculars to her eyes.

  “Bloodthirsty,” her husband accused.

  “Curious,” she defended. It took a minute of searching, glancing out the side of the glasses, then back through them trying to get her bearings. Without breaking his concentration, Inzyr reached out, guided her line of sight, then resumed his folded-arm-stance.

  “Thanks.”

  The dwarf was now leashed, a rope looped around his thick neck, though barely seen under his thick, matted hair that hung to his plump elbows. She could tell he was calling out to his companions, but they turned away, making themselves obscure within the crowd. “Will he be put in jail?”

  Both males snickered. For a moment, she lowered her opera glasses and tried reading her father and husband. Dezenial watched her; Inzyr watched the market. She returned to monitoring down below. This time, it was Dezenial who reached around and adjusted her position to relocate the macabre scene unfolding.

  Wounded Lumynari limped, his thigh haphazardly wrapped with fabric doing little to staunch the flow of very dark blood. Dragged, thrown upon a huge wooden stage of sorts, the dwarf scrambled to his feet and shook his fist. Crowds gathered. Like ants, they swarmed from tents, stalls, and dark alleyways. Two very large Lumynari males stepped up onto the stage, and began shouting. Several hands raised at various intervals throughout the crowd. Within minutes, a Lumynari pushed his way through the throng of beings now dispersing and leapt onto the stage. Emily watched coins exchange for the dwarf’s leash. A soft gasp escaped her. “Did that Lumynari just buy his freedom—why is he struggling against a Lumynari trying to save—oh. He was sold. What will happen to him now?”

  Dezenial’s hands cupped h
er small shoulders. “He will be placed in tonight’s arena.”

  “Arena?”

  “After open market, much food, dancing, a bit more trading,” he leaned down, “sex is enjoyed. Then, blood sport.”

  “Blood sport?”

  “To the death, Emily.”

  “Will we be going?”

  “You wish to attend?”

  She shrugged, catching herself before either male could comment she’d inherited Inzyr’s habit.

  Too late, I’ve already noticed. And long before you knew of his existence.

  Making a face at her husband, she looked back out the window. “I used to watch boxing. I even paid my way into a cage match, not realizing it was a death match. It was . . . gross.”

  “You attended this alone?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  He looked over her head and she knew he was exchanging a look with Inzyr. “What?”

  He clutched her chin and lifted her face to make sure she read the seriousness of his expression. “Never, Keer’dra, never attend such an event here, in Balkore, alone, without your guards. These crowds are infested with killers looking for any excuse to throw spectators into the arena as well. That’s what heightens the sport.”

  “Really?” His warning had the desired effect. The thought of having to fight like that was—she arched a pale brow.

  “Keer’dra. Your powers are no match against the trolls and other beings you’ve yet to imagine. A troll’s hide takes a very long time to burn. You would be pulverized long before he died of your fire, which would disturb him no more than a bee sting.” He waved his hand. “Never mind the guards. I forbid you to attend. I would lose my mind, should something happen to you.”

  “I was kidding. I . . . I really don’t like this magic thing. It always seems to erupt only when I’m good and pissed. I don’t like when the rage consumes me. I’m left shaking for hours afterwards.” Sidestepping Dezenial, forcing him to drop his hold, she made her way towards Inzyr’s galley, muttering, “Everyone wants me to be well behaved and well protected. Caged.”

  “I have no desire to cage you, Keer’dra. You’re hungry. And, no doubt, emotionally exhausted, otherwise, I know you would understand my apprehension for your safety when down here in a realm you’ve never experienced.”