by Marie Harte
Curious that Faustus included Sava in that confidential bit of information, Arim teleported to his chambers. Sava appeared a moment later, trailing the energy Arim purposefully left behind him. They entered into a cluttered room. Surrounded by stone, the room had surprising space when not crowded by wall-to-wall tables covered in spell castings. Clay pots, earthen jars and all sorts of herbs, roots and books littered his workspace. An unused bed sat in the corner of the dimly lit room, no doubt covered by the dust that lingered in the musky chamber.
Whispering a spell under his breath, Arim cleared the room of dust and dirt and brightened the space. “Looks the same as the last time I visited.”
Arim frowned. “You were here at least two hundred years ago.”
“Like I said, looks the same.” Sava glanced dubiously at the raw magic on the tables.
“You need a wife, Arim. Or at the least, a hobby.”
Arim couldn’t help but laugh. “Who has time for hobbies? I have a kingdom to protect, enemies to demolish, and Dark Lords to find.” His laughter faded at thoughts of Lexa. He wondered just what she was up to right now, if she thought about him at all, and why it bothered him that she might not.
“You were going to help me, were you not?” Sava asked, his voice light with innocence, but Arim wasn’t fooled.
“What do you really want?”
Sava crossed his arms over his chest. “Arim, I come to you, hoping for a peaceful way out of a hostile situation, and you insinuate I’m up to something? You Light Bringers have no sense of fair manner—”
“Sava…”
“Oh, all right. Alandra’s been telling me about what the Church of Illumination has been up to lately. Those bastards are trying to formulate spells to rid the land of Darkness and Shadow. All of it. To include Morn Mountain and other such fields in Tanselm that shy from the Light. That’s a major problem, wouldn’t you agree?” Sava’s sardonic voice rose with anger.
“Yes, I do. But I just heard about this from Ravyn today. I’ve been busy trying to save Tanselm from destruction, so the petty politicking of the Church hasn’t been as much a priority.”
“That’s all well and good. I agree ‘Sin Garu needs to be found and beheaded. But what about my people? The Aellei in the eastern territory deserve protection.” Sava’s eyes gleamed with menace. “I’m telling you now, they’re going to get it, one way or the other.”
Arim felt his headache returning. “Why isn’t Aerolus hearing this?” Aerolus, ruler of the eastern territory and husband to Sava’s troublesome niece, Alandra.
“Because the princes are too busy shoring their reserves for the next Netharat attack. ‘Sin Garu is positively brilliant. He plagues the land, and the lot of you rush to its defence, leaving the day-to-day open to invasion. Wouldn’t surprise me if the Church is infected with a Dark Lord taint.”
“Who the hell knows at this point?” Arim glared at his friend, a sudden wave of weakness forcing him to lock his knees lest he fall over. Dammit, not now, not in front of Sava.
“Arim?” Sava looked as shocked as he felt, but the man’s brown eyes soon filled with concern Arim neither wanted nor needed.
Ignoring Sava’s worry, Arim acted as if he felt perfectly fine and stood even straighter. “What do you want me to do? My hands are tied at the moment. I’ll talk to Alandra and Aerolus. Let them handle the Church. I have to find ‘Sin Garu and destroy him, to end this nonsense before he has time to regroup. If he is more demon than man, then it’s definitely time he met the Next. Demons loose in our world will mean the end for all of us.”
To Arim’s surprise, Sava didn’t question the notion of demon interference. “Why aren’t you asking me about the demons?”
“Because I have my own sources of information. I know that ‘Sin Garu is in bed with those Malinta vermin.” Sava tapped his fingernails against his chest, the action slow and hypnotic.
Distracted, Arim blinked in confusion at the Aellei. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What? Oh, this?” He stopped tapping. “Something my pixies showed me some time ago. The tapping calms me. Helps me to focus.” Sava tapped again, and Arim felt himself drawn to the motion, the weakness within him making it difficult to gather himself and look away.
“Cut it out,” Arim whispered, unblinking as he stared at those long, graceful fingers.
“Your problem is that you’re tired. You’re wearing yourself out, Arim. Delegate, my friend.” Sava tsked and produced two goblets in his hands out of thin air. “Might I recommend this fine cinarum I’ve borrowed from your sister’s larder?”
The weakness suddenly left Arim. As he subtly steadied himself, he wondered what had happened in Tanselm to translate to his unexpected lack of strength. The sweet smell of the aged rum in Sava’s hands made his mouth water, and Arim realised it had been days since he’d last eaten or drunk anything.
Still, a lifetime of wariness made him pause before taking the cup.
“Of, for Dark’s sake, here.” Save scowled as he took a sip from both goblets. “No poison, just fine rum. Do you want some or not?”
Arim accepted the drink. “Sorry. With rumours of traitors everywhere, it’s hard to know who to trust.”
“That’s your problem, my friend.” Sava took a long swallow from his goblet. “You should never trust anyone. In my kingdom, we play games, and we excel at it.”
“No one’s more shifty than you Aellein bastards,” Arim agreed.
Sava preened. “Thank you. We’re good because we practise. I can’t tell you how many poisons I’ve become immune to or affected by in my vast lifetime. Or how good I’ve become at reading people. Take, for instance, Jonas Chase, your Djinn friend.”
Arim waved a hand and a chair appeared. He sank into it, grateful to finally unwind, and imbibed more of the heated drink, filling his empty belly. By the Light, it felt good to get off his feet and, dare he say, relax with a friend.
“What of Jonas? Don’t tell me I have to worry about him too?” Jonas had saved not only Marcus and his affai from harm, he’d also helped save Cadmus and was distantly related to Ellie, Cadmus’s affai. His position in the northern kingdom had helped many of the newly arrived Djinn to adapt without causing an uprising among the northern Light Bringers.
“You don’t have to worry that Jonas will hurt Tanselm. Your worry with the Darkling concerns someone dearer.” Sava’s eyes twinkled. “He and Lexa are great friends, Arim.”
Arim should have bristled at the innuendo that he cared what Lexa did with the Djinn. But he felt too comfortable to argue. The cinarum warmed him where he hadn’t realised he’d been cold. He had to commend Ravyn for her precious stores. The cinarum he’d last brought her hadn’t tasted this fine. “Your point?”
“Just that Jonas feels the same ties to this land that you do. Tanselm calls him hers. Though he visits the Djinn homeworld of Foreia now and again, Tanselm will always claim him.” Sava paused, his canny gaze on Arim’s face. “Just as his heart belongs to your pretty Dark Lord.”
Arim froze in the act of drinking. “What?”
“Lexa, your precious Dark Lord. Jonas loves her. Even now he’s with her in the mundane plane, watching over her in bed.”
Rage frothed and boiled over Arim’s calm, igniting his desire to kill a potential rival. He rose with lightning speed, stumbling to regain his balance. “I knew Jonas knew where she was. That bastard. I’m going to kill him.”
Sava nodded calmly and drained the rest of his cup. “Right. I’ll take you to him. But don’t let that go to waste.”
Arim swallowed the rest of his drink without thinking about it and clumsily followed Sava into the between. He felt not himself, his fury that another sought to supplant him in Lexa’s affections obliterating everything else. Nothing mattered now but eliminating Jonas and taking Lexa back. He had to show her she’d made mistakes. Had to finally learn why she’d taken his heart and shredded it into nothing; why no other woman could ever compare to the heartless Dark Lor
d who’d promised herself so sweetly while killing his affections as cruelly as she’d snuffed out the lives of her family.
In seconds he fell into the mundane plan. His knees hit the plush carpeting in someone’s living room. The tendrils of energy in the place felt Dark, like Lexa. And his soul buoyed.
“Easy, friend.” Sava helped him to stand upright, the Aellei’s voice echoing around him.
Arim blinked but could only see shadows blurring. So not right. The magic within him screeched a warning, and as if a cloud had been lifted, Arim realised he’d been under an enchantment.
“Sava.” Even as he growled the name, Arim began calling on the Light, drawing on his ability to savour the purity of energy around him.
“Hell. Jonas, now.”
Arim struggled to see but could only make out vague outlines and dark blurs. Two powerfully strong bodies shuffled him across the floor and through what looked like a doorway. Before he knew it, Arim found himself tied up and in a chair facing a large bed. The hated feeling of bonds around his wrists stung, and he struggled against memories of helplessness as well as the Dark-hide rope that sucked at his energy. But what bothered him most of all, he’d again lost someone he trusted and cared for.
“I’m going to kill you for this.” Bitter anger rose, mingled rage that his friend had deceived him and despair that he’d once again fallen for the lies from someone he’d considered almost family.
“Do what you must.” Sava sighed. “If you two weren’t so damned stubborn, we wouldn’t have had to do this. Jonas, their clothes. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Jonas murmured something Arim couldn’t make out before Arim’s clothes were wrenched from his body, presumably by the Djinn. Arim’s sight, unfortunately, no longer functioned.
“Just so you know, the poison I gave you won’t hurt you.” Sava. “Just confuses your mental patterns enough to be led rather easily. It goes without saying it deadens the senses. Your sight will revert by tomorrow, your hearing as well.
“The room is sealed with both Shadow and demon magic, effectively shielding you from anyone and everyone while keeping your own magic tamped within you. So don’t even try using it against your partner in here.”
Partner? Demon magic? Where the hell had Sava gotten a hold of that? And what did he have to gain with all of this? Had he made a deal with ‘Sin Garu?
“Sorry. I’m sure you want to tell me to ‘kiss my own ass.’” More laughter, Jonas’ or Sava’s, Arim could no longer tell. “This is for your own good, Arim. You two have to work things out. I’ll be back to get you in a week, give or take a few days. I never can keep track of the time differences between planes. Everything you need is in this room. And I do mean everything.”
Sava soon faded from his senses as darkness overwhelmed him. Arim stubbornly fought, but eventually his Light could no longer protect him against the invasion of numbness overtaking his reality. His last thought was that of an unknown partner before he faded completely.
* * * *
‘Sin Garu faltered as he stared at his reflection in the fine looking glass taken from the woman lying dead on the stone floor beside him. He wiped a trickle of her blood from the corner of his mouth, annoyed his bloodlust continued to grow. Looking into the mirror, ‘Sin Garu considered his once-beautiful features. He now looked like the monster to which many had likened him.
His long, flaxen hair still flowed like silk around his face. But his eyes, which had once been a deep, inky blue, now flickered with red and green lights of demonic hunger that refused to abate. His pale skin was even whiter, any sense of Light a painful torture he could no longer bear. Jagged yellow nails encrusted with blood ended his thinner and longer fingers, which now resembled the talons of his Netharat wraiths.
‘Sin Garu studied the changes overtaking his body. His limbs, like his fingers, had lengthened. While he missed his old body, perfect in both tone and form, the demonic forces overtaking his reason forced him to acknowledge the benefits in such a frame. Stronger, leaner and more flexible, his body could contort to almost any shape, so long as he kept it fed and in the Dark.
The muscles in his legs suddenly tightened. He noted with amusement that the shaft hanging between his thighs tensed as well. A spike of torture he’d used without cease on the woman lying so lifelessly beside him. The sight of her and the blood he’d just ingested stoked his hunger anew.
“Sirral,” ‘Sin Garu mentally yelled to his newest assistant, irritated that his trusted wraiths kept dying on him. He’d been forced to kill Mirego a year ago due to his minion’s disappointing service. Then Caeth had fallen to a Storm Lord attack, another one of Arim’s casualties. The fucking Guardian of Storm.
Snarling, ‘Sin Garu bellowed again, displeased his wraith still had not arrived in Orfel, ‘Sin Garu’s refuge in the between. Orfel was one of the last Dark Lord retreats still unknown to the Light Bringers or to his treasonous sister Lexa. He’d once considered sharing information of the location with her, a generous act he would have later regretted. That the bitch had instilled in him a measure of trust only proved, once more, how truly dangerous she could be.
A small pop heralded Sirral’s entrance. The misshapen creature immediately prostrated itself, the scent of fear surrounding it overwhelming. “Yes, my lord?”
“I need more blood, Sirral. This one obviously expired.” ‘Sin Garu kicked at the limp body on the floor, watching his wraith hungrily lick its lips, the thin, forked black tongue trembling as it sensed the female’s rotting flesh. Nothing ‘Sin Garu touched lasted long anymore. Not since the demons had taken over his body.
He shrugged. No matter. They kept him alive and shared their considerable strength. If he had less control over himself than he once had, he considered the price worth it. His cock rose again, carnal hungers riding him hard. “Two more females, Sirral. Xiantopes. Ones with a bit of fight this time.”
Sirral vanished, returning moments later with two attractive humans. The women made up for their lack of magic with waves of fear and anger, striking out against Sirral as he dragged them forward. The taller of the two had white-blonde hair, and ‘Sin Garu felt a longing for Alandra Storm, the Aellein princess he’d once been close to taking. So close, the magic of her kind within his grasp, and then Aerolus, her damned Storm Lord protector, had arrived. And with him, Arim. Always Arim.
He scowled, and the brunette being dragged by her hair broke into screams.
“Really, cease your caterwauling. You’re merely here to sate my hungers. Once you’ve done as commanded, you’ll be free to go.”
“Like she was free to go?” the blonde answered shakily, her eyes wide as she stared at the dead woman by his feet.
“Ah. Forgive the mess. I quite forgot about her.” ‘Sin Garu touched the corpse with his foot, sending her through the between into Malern, where the Netharat would feast on her body. A bit of a treat, and ‘Sin Garu figured that small rewards would keep his starving army hungry for victory. “Now come to me, lovely.” He faced the blonde, eager to taste her blood. “I so love that colour hair.”
He waved his fingers, and she cursed as she unwillingly complied to his will. ‘Sin Garu ensorcelled this particular female to welcome his touch. While she moved sensuously, teasing him with her body, she internally fought every step while the brunette and Sirral watched together, respectively frozen in terror and desire.
“Undress, melea.” Whore. The ignorant woman didn’t understand the insult. Sirral did and gave what passed for a smile on its hideous face. The evil within ‘Sin Garu writhed with need as the purity of the xiantope shone through her being. As her clothes dropped piece by piece, he felt his body stir at her beauty, her sun-kissed skin a ravager’s delight.
“Now crawl to me, my lovely.” ‘Sin Garu gripped his shaft, holding it so that she might see his excitement building. “Drown your sorrows in my enjoyment.” He laughed, thoroughly pleased at how hard she fought his compulsion, even as he made her want what he offered.
/> The minute she reached his feet he sank his fingers into her shoulders, piercing her flesh. She screamed even as her head drew closer to that part of him demanding attention. Inside him, the demons hissed and clawed at one another, eager to feel her pain, their pleasure. Her mouth opened, wet heat sucking him deep. As ‘Sin Garu threw his head back and allowed the beings inside him their gratification, he shared their bliss while that dwindling, rational part of him planned the next attack on Tanselm.
He needed a distraction, certainly. Something big enough to draw Arim out again. But it had to wait until ‘Sin Garu had news of Lexa. Though disappointed that he hadn’t been able to dispose of her and Arim in their last battle, the fact that the stubborn fools had saved one another rather than finish him off told him much. He would never have guessed it by the way they’d fought all these years. Apparently, the idiots cared for one another. Affection, a vulnerability ‘Sin Garu had been surprised to find still in his sister. Yet she’d defeated him…again. Working with Arim, no less. The need to kill her in front of Arim, to finally break the Light Bringer sorcerer into little pieces, exceeded his desire for Lexa, and even what he held for Tanselm.
Nay, you shall have it all, the demons pledged as ‘Sin Garu felt himself pushing the edge of ecstasy. By the Night, the female knew how to suck. He glanced at Sirral and the other female, amused at the pathetic erection straining his wraith’s ragged clothing. The brunette cried, horrified at the events transpiring around her, and her negative energy encouraged ‘Sin Garu’s rise towards climax. His fangs lengthened as sexual need beckoned his unquenchable thirst anew. So close…
“Sirral, bring her to me,” he rasped, satisfied with the disappointment on his minion’s face.
‘Sin Garu continued to take his pleasure, licking at the blonde woman’s energy. He was enraptured with her internal struggle to dislike what she did. The demons within him screeched with delight, torturing her by increasing her pleasure in his taste. The woman wanted so badly to hate what he did to her, but her body and mind wouldn’t let her. The notion she might like him, a creature more demon than man, filled her with revulsion.