The Blood King

by Brookes, Calle J.

  "No wild animals, then?" Kindara asked as a howl split the night air.

  "That sounded a little creepy." Jierra tapped the break seconds before a large dark shape darted in front of the car.

  Jierra jerked the wheel, sending the car into a swerve that had Kindara grasping the handle and uttering a short prayer. Finally, the car stopped and both women dragged in cleansing breaths.

  "Are you ok, Ji?" Kindara put one hand on her daughter's shoulder. Jierra had never driven a car more than ten miles in any one direction, had never been on a highway after dark. Had probably never seen an animal on the road besides a cat or dog. "It happens; animals dart out all the time."

  Jierra flipped on the interior light, and Kindara scanned her daughter's face. Jierra's eyes, deep amber, were wide and her chin trembled. Her bottom lip was tucked under her top teeth and she swallowed repeatedly. Kindara pushed a lock of strawberry blonde hair out of Jierra's eyes, the gesture meant to be soothing.

  "I don't want to drive anymore."

  "Ok." Kindara opened her door and slid from the car. She'd feel better driving now, anyway. She heard the other door open just as a man stepped out of the shadows.

  Kindara reflexively went into a defensive pose. "Ji! Back in the car, now!"

  Her daughter knew not to question, but Jierra issued a short scream that had Kindara's veins filling with ice. The man in front of her laughed as he stepped closer.

  From what Kindara could see in the darkness, he was tall and strong. Equally as tall as her brother, Cormac, who stood six-foot-seven. Equally as strong.

  At five-foot-nine, Kindara knew she was facing a fight.

  He didn't smell human. He didn't smell Dardaptoan, either. What he smelled, was evil.

  ****

  The woman he faced was glorious, and he didn't need his night eyes to see it. She was below average height for a Dardaptoan woman and slim. Pale hair surrounded a delicate face like a halo, making her appear almost angelic in the traditional white tunic of female Dardaptoan royalty. He laughed again. Fitting, then, that she be taken by a demon.

  She must have taken his laugh for inattention for she sprang at him, hands raised to strike. It was pitifully easy to deflect her. He didn't want to hurt her, and though he sensed she was an experienced fighter, it would be easy for him to do.

  He grabbed both wrists and forced her over the hood of the car before using his body weight to subdue her. He cursed when sharp fangs pierced his shoulder. He shook her off, then heard her head banging into the metal hood. She stilled for a moment and he seized the opportunity to wrap the rope he'd tucked in a pocket around her wrist.

  "Jierra! Run!" She screamed even as she fought him. "Go! Now!"

  "She can't," Rathan told her. "The Lupoiux wolf has her."

  Her struggles were more desperate now and Rathan found himself having difficulty catching her other hand.

  "Going to play with your toy all day?" Rand's voice came from the other side of the car. Rathan cursed again when he realized the wolf had had much less difficulty with his own captive.

  "Just having a bit of fun with her." Rathan ran one hand over the horns on his head, picking up a trace amount of the mesmarinium that his kind used to control difficult prey. He covered the woman's mouth with that hand, ensuring she got a strong dose of the chemical. He leaned close to whisper the command to sleep in her ear.

  Her slim body went slack beneath him and he lay atop her for a moment, relishing the feel of feminine flesh pressed against him. He would enjoy feasting on this one. He straightened, then pulled her over one shoulder, one hand rising to cup a sweetly curved backside.

  Rand circled the front of the women's car, his own burden in a similar position. Only she was awake. Rathan got an impression of a pretty woman with delicate features and large eyes. Terrified eyes. "In three, then."

  "Yes." Rathan nodded. "See you then."

  ****

  Rathan hiked for several hours, the woman's weight no real burden. He'd shifted her some time before, wrapping her long legs around his waist and arranging her golden head on his shoulder. She slept on, her soft breath kissing his neck with even rhythm.

  When the sun rose he began searching for a suitable place for the two of them to spend the day. Demons preferred the night hours, so they would sleep during the day and continue walking the next night.

  He found the spot he was looking for, a cave that would be difficult for anyone tracking his captive to find. And he didn't fool himself, the Dardaptoan king would be searching for one such as this. Would want her back. Most males would just simply want her.

  He wasn't giving her back; at least, not anytime soon.

  He lay her on the cave's smooth stone floor, tucking her knees to her chest and rolling her to one side to prevent her from resting on her bound hands. He whispered a reinforcement to his earlier command. She'd slumber until he returned, whenever that was.

  It took him less than an hour to find what he wanted and he waved his hand to bind the pine needles together with a small spell. He dabbled very little in the black arts common to witches, but those he used were practical.

  He'd need a soft bed for his captive, especially if he was to spend part of the day hours feasting upon her. He returned to her quickly, casting another small spell to command the pine bedding to trail behind him. Just outside the cave entrance were enough soft weeds for him to do one more thing. Another spell had the grasses weaving together in a blanket. The cave would be around fifty degrees and he knew that would be too cold for his Dardaptoan prisoner. Dardaptoan women lacked the ability to handle colder temperatures, so he must be cautious.

  He flashed a beam of hell-light from his fingers, setting the orb to floating around the small cave. It allowed him to see his captive fully for the first time. She was as he'd left. He knelt beside her, barely aware of the bedding and blanket hovering just behind him. His fingers trailed over her exposed cheek, then ghosted over the softness of her lips.

  He wanted a taste. He rolled her onto her back and leaned closer as her breath sighed out. He captured it with his lips as surely as he'd captured her. His lips covered hers and his tongue darted inside to finally get the taste he'd so wanted.

  He hadn't touched a corporeal female in decades, had been forced to be content with mere brushes against Rand's sisters and cousins.

  She tasted like the finest of Roman wines, tart and rich. He couldn't resist taking more than one taste. At her lack of response, he pulled back slightly before running small kisses over her face, tasting her cheek, her brow, her pointed little chin. He could command her to respond to him, and he would if that's what was necessary. But for some reason, he was in no rush. He just wanted to enjoy.

  He pulled her into a seated position, propping her against the cave wall while he arranged their bed for the day. He scooped her up and settled her on the pine, before removing her wrist bindings and rubbing the chafed skin. Her wrists were small in his hands and he frowned at how easily he could break her. He'd have to be gentle, and for a moment he worried he couldn't. This demon wanted a taste of an angel very, very badly.

  He brushed her mind with his, searching for who she was, what she wanted in that deep secret place every woman had.

  All he found was a deep sense of sadness, of fatigue far more greater than any he'd ever found.

  ****

  Kindara woke with a burning in her shoulders and burning questions in her mind. Where was she? Where was her daughter? Had it been a nightmare? Gods knew she’d had more than her fair share of those through the decades.

  The bed she lay on was prickly and smelled strongly of pine. The blanket covering her caused her skin to itch. There was a chill in the air, air that smelled slightly musty.

  There was a warm body beside her and hands running along the edge of her tunic. Hot hands, large hands. Male hands.

  Her eyes widened in the darkness.

  No man had touched her with that kind of intent since her mate’s death thirty years ag
o. A gasp escaped and she arched, trying to dislodge the hands.

  A masculine laugh was her only reward. A laugh she remembered from the edge of the highway. The hands slipped beneath her tunic. “Who are you?”

  “Rathan.”

  “What are you?” He wasn’t human and he wasn’t Dardaptoan or Lupoiux werewolf.

  “Demon.”

  Kindara cringed. Demons were soulless, amoral, conscienceless beasts who preyed on all humanesque creatures, including Dardaptoan. She'd been fortunate in her four hundred plus years of living to only have crossed paths with a handful of demons and never while alone. But her brother had told her much about them. Cormac was a Predatoi, a demon hunter of notable skill, and he'd killed hundreds through the years. Kindara didn't doubt this demon would be Cormac's next kill.

  "Why did you do this? Where's Jierra?" The last thing Kindara remembered was her daughter's scream. She bucked, tried to kick the demon away from her when his hands tried to untie the green sash she wore to denote her family line.

  "Relax, your friend will not be hurt." The demon ran his hands over her ribs, his fingers counting each one.

  "My daughter. She's my daughter, and she's only a baby." Kindara's words came out in a sob of anger as one knee connected with the demon's thigh. It did little damage, he was large and solid. "Where is she?"

  ****

  Rathan felt the desperation pouring off the woman and it had him withdrawing his hands slowly. Desperation never tasted good to him. "She is safe. The Lupoiux has no plans to hurt her."

  "Then why did he take her?"

  "Vengeance."

  "For what? Ji hasn't hurt anyone!"

  "No, but your king and his advisors have." That had his own anger returning as he thought of Rand's young sister, Mickey, with her sweet ways and shy smile. She was the youngest of the four murdered women, at barely twenty-five years of age. "They must be forced to pay."

  "What did they do?" She tried again to escape his hands. He'd retied her wrists, this time above her head and around a small stalagmite. The bondage arched her chest perfectly. He untied the green sash and removed it. An expert finger began unhooking the tiny fastenings of her top. It parted to expose creamy unblemished skin that glowed in the low light. "Stop!"

  "Why?" Rathan dipped a finger in her navel before trailing over her now exposed ribs. "Do you stop when your human prey begs it of you?"

  "I don't feed from humans! I haven't in thirty years!" Chills had risen over her flesh and he smiled.

  "Then what do you eat, my pet?" Rathan didn't believe her; Dardaptoans needed human blood, and the women even more so. They were so weak otherwise. What male would let one not feed properly?

  "Bagged blood. My daughter does the same."

  She wore a bra, a plain cotton bit of nothingness that covered her breasts--for the moment. Rathan knew it wouldn't for much longer.

  "Still. It is human, is it not?"

  "Yes. But freely given, donated to those who need it."

  "Under false pretenses." Rathan truly didn't care what she ate or didn't. He'd feed from her the entirety of the time he possessed her, as was fitting for his species. Could he blame her for doing the same when she needed? "I'm hungry, little one. You will feed me now."

  ****

  Kindara shivered under his hands as they ran around the elastic of her bra. Feed him? Demons didn't take blood; Cormac had told her that. "What type of demon are you?"

  "You haven't figured it out yet?" He had a wicked grin and he flashed it at her, causing his black eyes to glow red. "I am of the family of Lothan and Lilith."

  She knew the legends of the first demon and his third wife, knew of the hundreds of thousands of creatures they'd spawned who needed to feed sexually from the humanesque. And Lilith had become the mother of all Succubae, which made this creature...Oh, holy hells! No. "Incubus."